The Blast from the Past
by wonderland-bliss
Summary: New undergraduate 22-year-old Kylie Wells has her life is turned upside down when a friend/savior from her past makes headlines as a serial killer's apprentice and winds up in the hospital and destined for a mental asylum. Things become even more complicated when she gets his old job and is thrust into the drama of the Jeffersonian team and must prove herself to the others.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I own nothing except for Kylie!**

* * *

Kylie Wells first saw it in the papers: _High-Esteemed Doctor Zachary Addy Revealed as Apprentice in Gormogon Murders_. And she couldn't believe it.

He couldn't do it. Not _her _Zack – the sweetest, kindest, most selfless boy she had ever known, who just so happened to have saved her ass in high school. While others jeered at his intellect, she admired and respected him. As his speech and debate partner, with whom she had made a formidable team during debate tournaments, she had spent more time with him than anyone else, mainly because she was the closest thing he had to a friend at the time.

* * *

"Can I help you?" A woman exiting Zack's hospital room asked Kylie, a slight edge to her voice. She appeared to be in her mid to late thirties with raven black hair and caramel skin.

"I'm just visiting Zack, er, Doctor Addy," Kylie corrected herself with a slight giggle. "Sorry, it's just always been 'Zack' for me."

"You're not Naomi," she said as though she were pointing out an obvious fact.

"I'm sorry, but I have no idea who that is," she said as apologetically as she could. "I'm a friend of his from high school."

"High school, huh?" the older woman raised her eyebrows. "Must be why Zack's never mentioned you."

"It's been awhile," she nodded in agreement. "Five years, I think. I'm Kylie, by the way. Kylie Wells."

"Camille Saroyan, Zack's boss," she held out her hand for her to shake. "Well…former boss. But you can call me Cam."

"Sounds good, Cam. It was nice meeting you!" Kylie's pale pink lips parted in a polite smile as she stopped at the viewing window of his room, observing him before she entered.

He looked the same, she observed. Same mousy brown hair with that cute flip at the end. But his smile was what always got her, with those cute dimples that always made her want to hug him whenever he smiled.

Even if Zack got uncomfortable whenever someone tried to hug him, he could never resist Kylie's embrace whenever she would wrap her arms around his waist and nest her head into the crook of his neck. It took a few times before Zack eventually hugged back, but she never gave up. She knew and accepted from the moment she was assigned as his debate partner that he had different ways of expressing himself and his emotions, and she worked with that. Instead of trying to get him to express himself the way others usually did, she tried to adapt by adjusting her normal style of communicating; in turn, he slowly began expressing himself more. His faint smiles would turn into larger ones, which would turn into laughs if the situation warranted it.

"Hey, Zack," Kylie cautiously walked up to his bedside and settled into the chair.

Zack squinted his eyes to get a better glimpse of his visitor. "Kylie Wells?"

"The one and only," she smiled, placing her hand on top of his bandaged ones.

"Well, technically speaking, both your first name and your surname are quite generic, and…"

"You haven't changed a bit," she giggled slightly, but this time, her eyes were sad.

"Or maybe you have," she continued, looking down before meeting his eyes, no longer caring if she cried in front of him. "Murder, huh?"

"Yes," he merely answered, devoid of any emotion.

"The Zack I know didn't have the heart to take a life," she whispered, sniffling.

"Like I told Doctor Brennan, his logic was irrefutable," he replied. He paused for a moment to look at his old friend. "Are we still friends? I understand we haven't seen each other in quite awhile, and given my current situation…"

"I owe you my life, Zack," Kylie interrupted him. "If it weren't for you, I would've been expelled from school and possibly landed myself in County. You made a mistake. A big one, yeah, but the important thing is that you see where you were wrong and try to better yourself."

"My logic failed me. I'm never wrong. How is that possible?"

"Everyone can make mistakes, even the most brilliant people," Kylie assured him.

"You sound a lot like Angela." She sensed a hint of a smile in his voice. "And a little like Doctor Brennan. But mostly Angela."

"Is that a good thing?"

"Yes, Angela is my friend," he nodded. "And I have utmost respect for Doctor Brennan. I was her grad student before I was officially offered a job at the Jeffersonian."

"What happened to your hands?"

"This would've been Hodgins when the explosion went off," he said quietly. "The magnitude of the explosion caused the skin on my hands to burn off. Third-degree burns, according to Doctor Brennan."

"Hodgins?"

"My best friend," a tear rolled down his cheek. "We'd always compete for King of the Lab. He's an entomologist, while I – like Doctor Brennan – am a forensic anthropologist. What brings you here? Not that I'm unhappy to see you, but from what I remember, you went to school in Seattle…"

"No, of course," she understood. "I'm surprised you remember that, actually. I moved out here with my brother. He's finishing his FBI training, and I'm taking a year off to find an internship or something before I start looking for a grad school."

"Brennan's going to need a new intern now that I'm no longer able to perform the functions of my work," Zack said. "Would you like me to recommend you?"

"So I'll get to do what you do…er, did?"

"That is correct," he nodded.

"That's really nice of you, Zack," Kylie smiled. "But I'm hardly qualified. I wouldn't have passed anatomy _or _physics if you hadn't tutored me. I'm sure there are a bunch of better qualified people there…"

"None of whom Hodgins, Angela, Cam, or Brennan are fond of," he cut her off.

"What?"

"Your abilities and intellect are more than satisfactory, Kylie," he assured her. "You underestimate yourself. And I am certain they will like you right away. Except for Doctor Brennan, maybe, but she's generally rather difficult to please."

Kylie sensed a slightly bitter edge to his voice toward the end, before smiling at Zack's compliment. "I've never thought of the forensic area before. That _does _sound pretty cool. My anatomy's rusty though, so..."

"I can have Hodgins lend you my old textbooks so that you can refresh your memory, if you'd like," he offered.

"I'll need some time to think about it, research it. Your field, I mean," she decided.

"My offer stands as long as you're here, but I would make a decision quickly if I were you. I'd imagine Doctor Brennan is stressing to find a satisfactory replacement right now, though I believe she is leaving for London with Agent Booth tomorrow."

"Do you think there's hope for me?" he asked suddenly. "Will I be stuck in a loony bin forever?"

"Of course there's hope. I know you, Zack. You couldn't have killed a man, even if you say you did." She paused before adding, "It was really good to see you."

"It was good to see you too," he nodded. "Will you come back?"

"Only if you want me to," Kylie shrugged, a teasing glint in her eye as the door shut quietly behind her.

"I hate it when she does that," he grumbled slightly before falling asleep.

* * *

I'm fairly new to BONES, and I've only just started season 4, so I wrote this based on what I've seen so far. Zack is my absolute favorite character (Angela comes a close second), and the season 3 finale definitely broke my heart. I tried to get his character right, so please let me know how I'm doing/what I can do better for future chapters! You'll meet everyone else in the next few chapters, and you'll also find out what Zack did for Kylie in high school that makes her owe him in due time. Please let me know how I did, as I'm sure there are people out there with better knowledge of BONES that have been following it since the beginning. Thanks for reading!


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: If I owned BONES, I would make Zack a series regular again.**

* * *

"Hey," 28-year-old Michael "Mike" Wells greeted his younger sister as she got home later that night. "How was your visit with Doctor Addy?"

"You can call him Zack, you know," she rolled her eyes at her brother's pompous tone. "It was good. It was nice to see him again. Why?"

"You should be careful," he advised. "In his situation, if a potential employer were to see you associating with him…"

"He's _not_ crazy, Mike!" she insisted swishing her caramel-colored hair over her shoulder. "And it's not like I can go around in public with him, anyway. I don't care what that article says. There _has_ to be more to it!"

"He's an accomplice to a murderer, Ky," Mike said urgently. "Like it or not, he's not the same kid you knew five years ago. And you'd do best not to associate with him."

"You don't know anything. He didn't do it," Kylie shook his head. "He couldn't have. As physically strong he can be, he couldn't hurt a fly."

"What about that time he tackled that crazy girl, Shana, who tried to kill you?" he reminded his sister.

"He had the element of surprise on his side," she argued. "Because of how passive most people – including she – thought he was, she was too shocked to retaliate." She sat down on their couch and wrapped her arms around herself. "He saved my life that day. And my ass."

* * *

(5 years ago)

_Kylie shifted nervously next to her attorney. The witnesses they had called all crumbled under the pressure from Mr. Pinkston, Shana's father and lawyer; she was going to be tried for assault and attempted murder, and she would undoubtedly lose._

_"Ms. Wells, are you alright?" her attorney, Charles Estevez, whispered._

_"I don't want to go to jail," was her simple reply._

_"It's not over yet," Estevez assured her._

_"Mr. Zachary Uriah Addy, do you solemnly swear to tell the whole truth and nothing but the truth, so help you God?"_

_Kylie nearly jumped in her seat as she heard her partner being addressed by his full name. _Zach? But I don't remember seeing him that night…

_"I do not believe in God, but yes. I do solemnly swear."_

_"Mr. Addy, what happened between Shana Pinkston and Kylie Wells?" _

_"I was walking to my car after talking to Mr. Sanchez, our speech and debate coach, and I witnessed the two of them fighting, though it was more along the lines of Shana attacking her, with Kylie trying to defend herself, mainly her deflecting what she could. I only saw Kylie throw maybe two or three punches, but none were fatal whatsoever."_

_"From your observations, what was the fight about?" _

_"Shana has always envied Kylie and I, but mainly Kylie, because of our prowess during speech and debate tournaments. She never held back any expression of jealousy toward us, but she has always seemed to have a problem with Kylie, even if she was never unpleasant with her. I couldn't decipher their exact words as Shana threw punches at her, but due to her general proneness to jealousy and paranoia that I've observed from the time spent with her during our speech and debate meetings, I feel confident in deducing that she confronted Kylie because Jesse Tyler, her ex-boyfriend, was infatuated with Kylie and made advances on her."_

_"What kind of advances?"_

_"He sent her many text messages, but she would never answer him. One week after he started texting her, he showed up outside her classroom to ask her out." _

_"Did Kylie Wells reciprocate his actions?"_

_"No, she rejected him. She was quite annoyed with him, actually. She often complained to me that he wouldn't stop bothering her."_

_"How well do you know Kylie Wells?"_

_"We've been debate partners since our freshman year, but I've gone to school with her since we were 10, though we were not familiar with each other until high school. She is the only person during the entire time I've been in high school that never made fun of me or excluded me from social activities. Judging from the way she often confided in me, sometimes preferring me to her female friends that she called her 'best friends', I feel that I know and understand her quite well." _

_ "If you are as close to her as you say, why didn't you call for help, or act quicker than you did? The report clearly says that you did not intervene until shortly before Shana was stabbed," Mr. Pinkston then asked him during the cross-examination._

_ "Shana is very strong," he explained. "She has black belts in judo and tae kwon do, and as I initially weighed the pros and cons, I was afraid that she would beat me up as much as she did Kylie. But when she had Kylie in a chokehold on the ground, I had this strange feeling in the pit of my stomach that any more damage, given Shana's strength and skill, would've killed Kylie, so I tackled her, which immobilized her temporarily."_

_ "In your good judgment, did Kylie Wells have time to regain enough consciousness to stab Shana Pinkston?"_

_ "Absolutely not," he shook his head. _

_"Can you prove this?"_

_"She was losing consciousness when I had tackled her; I do not believe she even knows I was there until today."_

_"How can you tell that Shana's stab wound was self-inflicted and not from someone else?"_

_"Her stab wound is not as deep as it would've been if somebody else had stabbed her. It is physically much harder to inflict pain on oneself than another because of the body's natural reflexes, so the knife is therefore not likely to go very deep, and it would also take much longer because of the pain. Also, the weapon used was a standard butcher knife, as it says in the report, with a sharp tip but fairly wide blade shape. If Kylie had indeed stabbed her, the stab wound would be much deeper, wider, and more damaging due to the greater ease she would've had, despite her physical disadvantage to Shana."_

_ Kylie held her breath as she awaited her fate. With just a few words from the judge, she could be put on an even bigger trial, thus potentially ending her dreams of being an anthropologist of some sort._

What have I done to deserve this?_ She thought miserably as she tapped her fingers impatiently on the table in front of her and looking back at Zack, who had reseated himself in the hearing room and given her a small, encouraging nod._

_"How did we do?"_

_"I think we've got a good chance," her attorney whispered to her. "After his explanation of the knife wound, Pinkston looked the most flustered I've ever seen him. Definitely not his usual Vulcan self. Mr. Addy's testimony was Pinkston's undoing."_

_"I didn't even know he saw the whole thing," Kylie whispered back. "But I'm glad he did."_

_She glanced over at the judge, who banged his gavel on his podium. _

_"Mr. Pinkston has decided to drop all charges against Kylie Wells," the presiding judge said, before turning in her direction. "Ms. Wells, you are free to go. Ms. Pinkston, you have been charged with physical assault and attempted murder, and _you_ will go on trial. This hearing is dismissed."_

* * *

"If he didn't testify that day, I would've been expelled and probably gone on trial and then to jail, since Shana's father's wicked good," Kylie swallowed as her eyes watered. She turned to her brother. "Murderer's apprentice or not, he's still my friend, and he saved my life. Tell me how someone like that is capable of murder."

"You haven't really talked to him since you guys graduated high school," Mike pointed out. "A lot could've happened since then. Tell me, would you have tried to contact him if he didn't show up in the paper?"

She looked down guiltily, even though she knew she was terrible at keeping in touch with people in general.

"The point is, I owe him," she said, "for the rest of my life. We both got busy; I went to the University of Washington and he stayed local and went to the University of Michigan at Ann Arbor. You have a lot to thank him for, too. If it weren't for him, you would've been planning my funeral instead of watching me graduate, because I was_ pretty fucking sure_ I was going to die that day!"

"I understand, Kylie, but until this mess gets settled, promise me you won't visit him again," he pleaded.

"I can't do that," she shook her head. "I'm 22, not five!"

"I've also been your legal guardian for the past 10 years," he reminded. "And don't forget, _you_ chose to live with me. You could've stayed with Aunt Helena in Seattle."

"Yeah, it was either Aunt 'holier-than-Thou' Helena or you. Besides, he offered to recommend me for an internship."

"Doing what?"

"What he did. It would basically be his old job. Staring at dead people under a microscope."

"…Seriously?"

"Analyzing the remains to help the _FBI _solve cases!" she gave him her 'duh' face.

"You mean, like Doctor Brennan, that author?"

"Exactly like her," Kylie nodded. "Did I mention I'd be interning under her?"

Mike looked up at the sound of the author of his favorite book series. "Well in that case, go for it."

"So I can still visit him?"

"Sure," he nodded. "But only twice a week at most."

"Fine," she shrugged.

"I'll be checking the sign in sheet at his mental institution to make sure you stick to that."

"Stalker," Kylie rolled her large hazel eyes.

"Sorry. Still your big brother."

"How could I _possibly_ forget?"

* * *

**Yay, 4 new followers! So it probably won't be till next chapter or the chapter after that until we meet the rest of the BONES gang. I thought it was important to introduce her older brother first. I also didn't mean for the flashback to be as long as it was, and I'd originally intended to have the flashback be the fight that almost killed her, but I'm terrible at describing fight sequences, so I decided on this. Some parts during the flashback were vague on purpose, but there will be more flashbacks throughout the story that will fill those gaps, since it's the way Kylie is remembering it and not . I've also decided where I'm going with the story, so it's safe to say it'll probably be longer than I thought it'd be. And if you guys want an idea of what Kylie looks and sounds like, picture Michelle Trachtenberg (Georgina on Gossip Girl and Dawn in Buffy the Vampire Slayer) but slightly shorter at around 5'4"-5'5" (with hazel eyes instead of blue ones like Michelle's). Hope y'all enjoyed! **


	3. Chapter 3

**Same Disclaimers apply! Enjoy!**

* * *

"I'll do it," she said brightly when she returned three days later to visit Zack with a wide smile on her face.

"I think you'll do very well," he nodded approvingly.

"You're not just saying that to give me false hope, are you?" she narrowed her eyes suspiciously.

"Have I ever done such a thing?" he asked, confused.

"Nah, I was just messin' with you," she smirked, scrunching her nose slightly.

"Hodgins brought my books over for me the other day," he said gesturing to a brown paper grocery bag next to him with a gloved hand. "Take whatever you need on your way out."

"Thanks, I really appreciate it."

"So I take it you're only allowed to visit me twice a week," he changed the subject.

"Unfortunately, yeah," she sighed. "Wait…how did you know…?"

"Your brother visited me yesterday," Zack said, "on his way back from his FBI training."

"Ugh, I'm 22 and he _still _gets on my ass more than he should."

"His reasoning is perfectly logical," he pointed out. "If a potential employer were to case your activities and see you coming here often, they would get very suspicious and perhaps the wrong impression of you."

"I'm sorry we didn't keep in touch during college," she took his hands in hers.

"I understand. You aren't one to use technology for small talk. You prefer to talk in person because, logically, it feels more personal to you that way."

"I forgot how easily you can read me," she chuckled slightly.

"Am I correct?"

"Yup, you are. I'm working on reaching out to people a little more. Just so that I don't lose _all _my friends."

"You haven't lost me," he shrugged. "And you never will. Even if I'm stuck in a loony bin for the rest of my life."

Kylie blinked a few times before smiling in awe. "You consider me your friend?"

"I thought that's long been established," he furrowed his brown eyes in confusion.

"You once told me that you didn't have friends," she reminded him. "Only people you spend time with to maintain some semblance of a social life. Those were your exact words, which actually hurt my feelings, since I felt a lot closer to you than I did my girl friends. I still do, after all this time."

"I apologize for making you feel that way," Zack gripped her hands lightly, though his face remained neutral. "But I assure you, you _are _my friend. And you always will be."

Kylie smiled. "I still have a billion questions about how you ended up in this mess…"

"It is impossible to have 'a billion questions' about something," he interrupted, and Kylie noticed his lips form a small semblance of a smile. "'A lot' would have been more appropriate, but I am willing to conjecture that 'a lot' to you would only be about four, maybe five, questions."

"I know, Zack," she laughed. "Figure of speech, remember?"

"Yes, I actually remembered that one. That was my attempt at what Hodgins and/or Angela would call 'teasing.'"

"Anyway," she continued. "Maybe we should just catch up on the past five years for now and this stuff," she gestured to the McKinley visiting room, "can come later."

"The 'stuff' that you wish to avoid is part of the past five years, so logically, it would be best to talk about it now instead of bottling it up, as Sweets taught me."

"Sweets? What kind of sweets, cupcakes? Candy? Last time I checked, you hated that stuff."

"No," Zack's smiled a bit wider than before. "Sweets is his name. Doctor Lance Sweets. One Bachelors, a Masters, and Two doctorates in various areas of psychology. He's a very brilliant man, even if others don't seem to think so."

"I see," Kylie suppressed a laugh at the sound of the psychologist's last name. "I guess I'll cut to the chase, then, and ask how you got yourself into this shit hole, excuse my language, in the first place."

"I agree with your usage of that term," he nodded. "It started when I received a letter from the President that my services were needed in Iraq."

"So you fought in the war?"

"I don't believe I would be alive if I did, but my services were needed to help identify remains. People don't exaggerate when they say war changes you, even if you don't actually participate in any battles. My experiences from those three months left me feeling lost and unsure of myself, whether or not I could continue living my life normally after seeing what I saw. I was..._weak. _And then came the Master, or as everyone else called him, Gormogon."

"Gormogon? Sounds like one of those Gargoyles from those cartoons they played in the morning when we were younger. Did he look like one, too?"

Zack always appreciated Kylie's pop culture references, even if he did not understand what she was referring to most of the time, but he vaguely remembered the cartoons she was referencing. "I suppose his teeth would look like those of one of the Gargoyles from the cartoons you speak of, but he had a set of false teeth, which I made for him out of canines from human skull remains; more on that later. So the M-, _Gormogon_," he quickly corrected himself, "comes to me with a proposition with logic that, like I mentioned in our previous meeting, was so irrefutable, that I complied."

"And what _logic_, pray tell, is _so_ irrefutable, that you agreed to be a man-eating serial killer's assistant?"

"He would've picked off everyone at the Jeffersonian one by one if I didn't comply," he said quietly. "And after he finished with them, my family back in Michigan, as well."

"Oh, my God," she whispered. "So he basically blackmailed you."

"Technically, yes."

"TECHNICALLY?!" she roared. "He _fucking blackmailed _you! There are no technicalities in that."

"Miss Wells," a guard popped in, "please keep it down, we have therapy sessions going on a few doors down."

"Sorry," she said quickly. As soon as the door shut she focused her attention back on her old friend. "Why didn't you tell someone? Go to the FBI?"

"Gormogon would have found out, killed me for exposing him, and gone after them, too. My priorities at the time were to keep my loved ones safe," he said. "As he went through his ritual one by one, he kept his word about not harming them. I even installed a camera at the Jeffersonian in the vault for him, but while he used it to spy, I used it to make sure he kept his word. Every time Cam, Agent Booth, Doctor Brennan, Angela or Hodgins checked on the vault, that was reassurance to me that he was keeping his promise."

"You still haven't told me how you ended up here," Kylie crossed her arms, her voice breaking.

"I'm getting there. Approximately three weeks ago, I gave him information on this Lobbyist, his next target. At the Jeffersonian, we found canine marks from the false teeth I mentioned earlier. I lied about my findings, and then proceeded to do an experiment with Hodgins, which was a distraction for the Gormogon to steal the silver skeleton in the vault, which was composed of remains from older Gormogon victims."

"You mean, there's been more than one psycho like that?" Kylie's normally bright features contorted in disgust.

"Yes, there's been quite a few of them – a sort of secret society – but I'd rather focus on the present. The explosion in the lab is the one I told you about when you visited me at the hospital. I miscalculated the dosage of one of the chemicals; it wasn't supposed to be as large a magnitude as it was. What you would see on my hands would've happened to Hodgins, had I not insisted in playing the part that I did. Therefore, I ended up in the hospital, instead of him."

"So you actually killed the guy."

"Not exactly."

"What do you mean, _not exactly_?!" Kylie began shaking in her chair.

"Ten minutes, miss," the guard popped his head in. "Then it's time for Zack to go to dinner."

"I won't need much longer, Sir," she didn't bother changing her tone. "You either killed him, plunged a knife into the guy's chest, or you didn't. Which one is it, Zachary Uriah Addy?"

Zack blinked. _My mother used my full name when she was angry with me, which was not often, so Kylie must be angry with me, as well. _"I…didn't."

"Then _who did_?!"

"Please, stop yelling," he whispered quietly, old tears threatening to fall.

Kylie sensed she'd hit a nerve, even though from her experiences with him, he wasn't fazed much by emotions, so she softened her tone. "Who killed the lobbyist, Zack?"

"The lobbyist's murder was supposed to officially make me his apprentice," he said. "There was another before me. _He_ killed the lobbyist."

"So you weren't really his apprentice."

"There can only be two."

"Like the Sith in _Star Wars_?"

"Exactly like that," he nodded.

"Was the dude a _Star Wars_ fan, or something?"

Zack chuckled slightly. "Agent Booth and Doctor Brennan eventually discovered me while in the hospital, for which I am extremely grateful, because Gormogon would have killed me since I was no longer of any use to him."

"Did they catch the guy?"

"I gave up the location of Gormogon's house and they ambushed and killed him in combat."

"So how did you end up here?" Kylie asked again.

"After confessing to killing the lobbyist while in the hospital, I was then declared _non compos mentis_, an agreement that would put me here instead of prison, where I undoubtedly would not have done well."

Kylie stared at her friend for a few moments before leaning forward to emphasize her anger at her realization. "Are you an idiot?"

"Despite my high IQ, I must be, if I got myself into this mess in the first place."

Kylie shook her head in disbelief. "I can't believe you."

"I don't understand," he looked at her in confusion.

"Tell me again everything that happened from your confession onward."

"The prosecutor, Caroline Julian, worked out a deal with the judge to have me declared _non compos mentis _so that I would be here instead of prison. I thought I made myself clear," he frowned.

"I'm really sorry for this," she leaned over and slapped him on the back of the head, "but earth to Zack, you were never formally arrested _or _given a trial."

"Being an associate to murder is just as bad as being the actual murderer," he countered.

"You didn't help that creep on your own volition," she said angrily, tears forming in your eyes. "You were _blackmailed_ at gunpoint."

"He preferred knives…"

"_Whatever_! You were never read your rights, given an attorney, or a fair trial, so you shouldn't even fucking _be_ here! I don't know if you just completely missed that _obvious_ detail, or if you're just running away from the truth, but you're better than this, and _you know it_!"

She pushed her chair back in a huff, grabbed her purse and headed for the door.

"Wait!"

"What?" she glared at him, crossing her arms.

"The textbooks," he gestured to the floor.

She sighed, picking up the brown paper bag and carrying it from underneath before turning the door handle with her hip bones. "Thanks."

"Kylie," he called again.

"What is it now?" she sighed again, exasperated.

"I-I'm sorry."

She shook her head. "You left your friends with the impression that you're a genius-turned-serial-killer-assistant-murderer, when you didn't actually kill anyone. I'm not the one you should be apologizing to."

* * *

**Poor Zack :( Kylie was much more angsty in this chapter than I anticipated, and I apologize if she seemed like a bitch toward the end, but I figured with all these emotions hitting her so fast (I should've made this clearer before, but she's been in DC for less than a month by the beginning of the story) and given her and Zack's history as friends, her reaction is fairly reasonable. And just as I predicted, you will meet one of the main characters in the next chapter. Stay tuned, y'all! Thanks for the reviews and follows! **


	4. Chapter 4

**Same disclaimers apply!**

* * *

"Could I have a vodka up, please? Smirnoff," Kylie plopped down on the barstool tiredly as she looked up with puffy eyes at the burly, African-American bartender as she stopped at the nearest bar on her way home from dinner, which, she was unashamed to say, she had by herself.

"Do you have an ID, miss?"

She nodded, quickly flashing him her Drivers License.

"I'm going to have to see it for longer than that," he struck back with a no-nonsense look, complete with what she and her college friends would call 'crazy eyes.'"

"Look at it as long as you want," she said dejectedly. "Just give it back."

"Vodka up, _Smirnoff_, coming right up," the bartender nodded with a smile. "Long day?"

"You have no idea," she shook her head, not in the mood to talk to anyone.

"Oh, I think I do," he said kindly. "I've got a long night ahead of me. I work till closing at 2 A.M. Not to mention all the drunken messes I gotta clean up, aside from the usual inventory check."

"You win," she shrugged.

"Enjoy," he said with a smile, handing her a filled martini glass.

"Thanks," she smiled back, sipping lightly at her drink.

_Two or three should do it, _she decided. _That should give me plenty of time to sober up later._

Kylie people-watched from her barstool, observing everyone who came and went, how happy or not-so-happy they were, all while thinking about her present situation.

At the rate she was going, she almost wished she had stayed with her wealthy Aunt Helena back in Seattle. Faking her religiosity and projecting an overall false image of herself as a Jesus-loving, church going, innocent virgin who didn't drink or do drugs to her aunt was nothing compared to moving to a new place only to find out your old best friend voluntarily got himself locked up for life in a mental institution for something he didn't do.

Her gaze eventually became a trance as she stared at the bar entrance, thinking about how she should've kept in touch with Zack and reached out to him more, or just reached out to people more in general. _Who knows how many problems I've caused other people because of how much I _don't _seem to care?_

Deep down, she knew she was a kind, fun person to be around, but after getting hurt so many times, she figured she was better off flying solo, keeping everyone out of her problems unless it was a life-or-death situation.

"I don't mean to sound rude, but how much longer are you going to be staring at that entrance?"

Kylie jumped, startled as she turned to see who had so rudely disrupted her train of thought. A man who appeared to be in his early-to-mid twenties, dressed to the nines in an Armani suit, cobalt blue tie, with a navy sweater vest and white dress shirt, sat at the barstool next to her and expectantly awaited her response.

"You've been staring at that entryway for the past ten minutes," he pointed out with a slight teasing smile on his face.

"That's not creepy at all," Kylie raised her eyebrows and turned the other way.

"Are you okay?" he asked, visibly concerned.

"Do I look okay to you?" she glared at him and gestured to the bartender, holding up her glass. "Could I have another one, please?"

"And one for me, too," the man said. "But with a twist, for me."

"You got it," the burly bartender smiled at the two of them.

"This one's on me," he added.

"Oh, you didn't have to…" Kylie stammered.

"Please, allow me. You've been crying periodically for at least the past hour," he said.

"Thanks," her pink lips curved upward in a toothless smile.

"I haven't had the best day myself, if it makes you feel better," he added.

"Can't be worse than mine," Kylie shook her head sadly.

"Try me," he turned to face her fully.

Kylie normally didn't accept drinks from strangers, nor did she 'drink and tell', as her old roommate Sasha from U-Dub would put it, but she figured she didn't have much left to lose.

Even though she was feeling a good buzz, she was still wary of telling everything to a complete stranger. "I moved here with my brother not even a month ago," she began, taking a sip of her second vodka, "only to find out that one of the closest friends I had turned into a complete IDIOT, and I feel like I don't know him anymore."

"How so?" her companion asked, taking a sip of his own drink.

"Let's just say…he got himself into some deep shit and doesn't seem to be fazed by the fact that he isn't doing something about it, even when he could, and he should."

"What kind of shit?"

"Um," She'd heard of people who had spilled their problems to complete strangers and felt completely better about it, but Kylie wasn't so sure she could do the same. She'd also seen the worse side of it, where the stranger happens to know the person about whom the other was talking, so she chose her words carefully. "He's taking the fall for something he didn't do."

"And how does this make him an idiot? Maybe he's protecting someone? A family member?"

"Believe me, he's not," she shook her head. "He's just being too stupid to see the solution that's right in front of him."

"Is this 'he' an ex-boyfriend, of sorts?"

"No," she shook her head. "Just an old friend I lost touch with after high school."

"Why did you lose touch with him?"

"I lose touch with everyone. Mostly. You ask a lot of questions," she laughed louder than she'd intended, letting out a few snorts in between. "I'm sorry, that was _so _embarrassing."

"That's alright," he smiled, though she felt like his smile was laughing at her in its own way. "Are you okay with that? The questions I mean?"

"Normally, I'd say 'no,' then demand to know why you're prying into my past when I don't even know your name," she shrugged. "But strangely enough, I feel like you're trying to make me feel better, or I shouldn't say 'trying' because you _are_ making me feel better. I feel a little better already, and I don't even know you!"

"No, you're not," he shook his head.

"Excuse me?" she looked at him incredulously.

"You're not feeling better," he said. "Not at all. And that's okay. The important thing is, you're expressing your emotions and admitting them, which is the first step."

"To what? And what makes you qualified to draw that conclusion about me?"

"Four college degrees," he shrugged. "One undergrad, three post-grad."

"Well _damn_!" she gasped in pleasant surprised. "You've definitely got my attention now. Go on. What else do ya got?"

"So I can ask you more questions?"

"Go for it," she smiled brightly. "Can I ask you some, too?"

"Whatever you want," he smiled cheekily. "So why did you lose touch with your old friend?"

"Wait, I asked that, like, fifteen minutes ago, didn't I? Seems like just a second ago. Did I tell you?"

"It would seem that way, yes. You're far more intoxicated than I am, therefore I am more likely than you to remember," he replied. "I think you danced around the question."

"I am? Hmm, I guess you're right. I think is my third now," she laughed a little. "I don't really do this, you know; drink away my feelings, or confess them to a complete stranger."

"And yet, here you are," he smiled.

* * *

Before they knew it, they found themselves making out in the bathroom at the back of the bar, with Kylie straddling her legs around her mysterious new friend and wrapping her arms around his neck while the man's hands firmly gripped her waist and rubbed up and down her lower back.

"Why couldn't we have done this sooner?" Kylie moaned as she gripped the back of the hair and bit lightly at his lower lip.

"Believe me, I wanted to," he admitted with a light smirk. "But I didn't want you to do anything you'd regret later."

"You never told me why your day was bad," she said suddenly, bringing one of his hands down from her back and placing her hand on top of his. "Do you want to talk about that?"

"Yours beats mine by a long shot," he smiled, shaking his head and stood next to her against the bathroom sink.

"Try me," she echoed his words from half an hour ago.

"My coworkers all hate me," he sighed. "I'm nothing but a meddling nuisance to them. I know they talk about me when I'm not there, yet when they've got work or personal problems, _I'm _the one they talk to! They come to me, yet they complain about me! Tell me, how does work? All I want to do is help them out!"

"You're right," she snickered. "Mine beats yours by a long shot."

"I should be offended by your lack of empathy, given the emotional support I provided you when you told me about yours."

"But?"

"But…I'm kinda drunk, and I just want to forget about them for awhile, so…" he shrugged.

"Kidding aside, I think – as much as you say they're annoyed with you – they're actually very grateful to have you around to help them. They'll all realize it on their own time, and you'll get the recognition you deserve." Kylie paused to admire the cute dimples on his cheeks and his wide, warm smile before something occurred to her.

"We never introduced ourselves, did we?"

"Not to my knowledge," he hunched up his shoulders and placed his hands in the air in a shrug. He extended a hand. "Lance Sweets. But call me Lance."

* * *

**To make up for the super angsty last chapter, I made this one a little lighter, with the ending thrown in there for a little shock to spice things up. You probably could've guessed it was Sweets that was the mysterious man, but if you didn't, hopefully the ending was a surprise. I've actually written the next few chapters already, but I'm still working some stuff out and making sure it's exactly how I want it to be before I post them. Thanks for reading, everyone! Hope you enjoyed! Feedback is always appreciated!**


	5. Chapter 5

**Same disclaimers apply! Enjoy, y'all!**

* * *

"So this here is the Medico-Legal lab," a short man that Kylie was sure was named Jack Hodgins waved his arms around. "Doctor Brennan would be showing you around, but she had to pick up some new remains. But just between us, I like to think I make it more interesting."

"How's that?" Kylie asked curiously.

"Well, she's very scientific, for one," he explained. "Second, she's a workaholic, and she forgets how to talk to people sometimes. No, scratch that, _all _the time."

"She seemed really nice during the interview, though," she furrowed her chocolate brown eyebrows.

"She's alright with _those_. She's had plenty of practice from all the times she's been interviewed to promote her books. Not to mention her time with Booth has helped loads. More than half the time, though, most of us have to ask her to repeat herself. Except for the person who used to stand where you're standing."

Kylie sensed a sadness in his voice, confirming her suspicions that Zack's lie to his friends had done them great emotional harm.

"This is where you'll report for work," he went on, sliding his authorization card before leading her up to the platform. "A typical day for you would consist of analyzing remains, reporting your findings to Doctor Saroyan and Doctor Brennan, and then go from there and do whatever they tell you. I typically work down here," he pointed to a set of equipment that included numerous monitors, a microscope, and various chemicals and other organisms safely sealed in mason jars.

"It's bigger on the inside," she murmured, having underestimated the size of the lab in proportion to the rest of the Jeffersonian.

"Nice to have another Whovian around here," Hodgins' bright blue eyes twinkled in delight. "Remind me to invite you over for a _Who _marathon sometime. Say, has anyone ever told you how much you look like Dawn from _Buffy the Vampire Slayer_? I hated Dawn as a character, but man, is she hot. Your eyes are different, though."

"Not sure how you went from _Doctor Who _to _Buffy_," she laughed, ignoring the implication at her looks, "but yeah. I've heard that more than I'd like to hear."

"It can get boring around here," he admitted, "so you can expect that sometimes."

"You're supposed to be showing our newest intern around, not discussing pop culture," Doctor Saroyan walked into the room with a slight disapproving glare before noticing Kylie and smiling. "Miss Wells, it's good to see you again."

"It's good to see you, too, Doctor Saroyan!" she replied enthusiastically, shaking her hand.

"You two have met before?" Hodgins quizzically looked back and forth between the two of them.

"In passing," Cam nodded, with a glint in her eye that told Kylie to keep mum about their first meeting.

"Do you have any questions so far?" Hodgins asked, switching into professional mode as Cam hovered for a few moments longer.

"How many people work at the Jeffersonian?" Kylie asked curiously. "I know this has nothing to do with what I'll been doing, but still."

"A lot more than you'll see in here, unless you decide to wander to some of the other departments when you're not working," he answered. "Anything else?"

"I take it you're an entomologist?"

"Yeah, how'd you guess?" Hodgins smiled, already impressed with his new co-worker.

"Why else would you have mason jars full of bugs or chemicals, a microscope, and a gigantic monitor with a less than pleasant display of a particulate?" she smirked.

Upon noticing a sudden glaze that formed over his eyes, her smirk turned into worry. "Should I have worded that better? I'm sorry, it sounded way more witty in my head."

"It's not your fault," he shook his head. "It just reminded me of…something."

"You miss him, don't you?" Kylie finished his thought for him. "The guy who used to work here?"

"How do you know it was a guy?" he said suspiciously.

Not wanting to reveal her past with Zack right away, she vaguely replied, "It was in the paper. I kind of figured he was the one."

"He was the one, all right," Hodgins said in a low voice. "How could he do that? _Betray _us like that? I should never have told him about those secret societies. Who knew he'd actually been _listening_…?"

She had only known Jack Hodgins for about twenty minutes, and it didn't take much to tell that Zack and him really had been best friends.

"He did it to protect you! All of you!" Kylie wanted to tell him, but merely shook her head. _If only you knew; if only the truth was mine to tell_.

"Are you going to say something, or are you just going to stand there and make me look like a weeping wimp?"

"It's never easy losing someone that was close to you," she chose her words carefully. "Especially if you shared a part of yourself with him."

"Okay, now you're making me sound gay," he crossed his arms.

"Sorry, I can really suck at wording. My point is, we all share parts of ourselves with people we have _any_ sort of special connection to, which would make losing them that much more difficult." Kylie stood up to her full height of five feet, four inches before continuing, "You probably resent me right now, and you think I'm replacing your best friend."

"Alright, stop right there…"

"Let me finish," she insisted, holding up a hand to stop him. "I'm pretty sure you feel that nobody can ever take the place of your best friend, and working with someone else won't be the same. And you're right. It won't be the same as before, but that doesn't mean it won't turn out okay. If you're going to compare me to him while we work together, you're going to be disappointed. With that said, I can't promise I'll be as great as he was, but I've always been a hard worker, so I _can _promise that anything you get from me will always be my best work. So what do you say?"

Hodgins gulped. "Where did you learn to psychoanalyze someone on the spot like that?"

"That wasn't my intention," she laughed. "I just wanted to minimize any potential issues that might come up. But now that you mention it, I did minor in psychology."

"Figures," he smiled for the first time since the whole subject of Zack had unintentionally been brought up.

"Well look at that, Bones," a well-built man walking next to Brennan strode through the lab entrance with a megawatt smile on his face. "I think we just walked in on a squint bonding session."

"Squint?" Kylie raised her eyebrows.

"Special Agent Seeley Booth," he introduced himself. "Kylie Wells, right?"

"That's right," she beamed proudly.

"Bones here tells me you and Zack were buddies back in the day. What was that like, huh?"

"Booth!" Brennan glared at him. "Did you listen to me at all on the way here?!"

"What's she talking about?" Hodgins turned to his new coworker.

"Oh my God, Zack had a lady friend?"

"Ange!" Hodgins shifted his glare to a tall brunette with Asian features swiping her card and excitedly rushing up to the main stage.

"I'm Angela." Kylie jumped a little as she found herself wrapped in a big bear hug. "If you need anything at all, don't ever be afraid to come to me, okay Sweetie?"

"I can't believe this!" Hodgins threw his hands in the air and stormed off.

"What's all the fuss over a new intern?"

Kylie slowly turned to match a face to the voice, which was all-too-familiar to her. Her fear came true when their eyes locked, and she was absolutely certain her heart beat louder than anything else in the room when his next words were spoken.

_"Holy shit_."

* * *

**As if a drunken make out session with your friend's doctor wasn't awkward enough! If anyone's wondering how much time passed between the last chapter and this one, I'd say about a week and a half; I had to speed up the pace because I felt it was getting a little slow and I wanted to introduce the rest of the Bones gang. Also, I have no idea if Hodgins would actually be a ****_Doctor Who _****or ****_Buffy_**** fan, but for this story he is. Thank you everyone for following, favoriting, and/or reviewing! I always appreciate hearing what people have to say :)**


	6. Chapter 6

**Same disclaimers apply!**

* * *

"Sweets, why are you looking at our new intern like that?" Temperance Brennan was confused.

"Well, well, well. What have we here?" Angela eagerly tuned in to the situation, ignoring her best friend's cluelessness. Something was up between Sweets and the new intern, and she was going to find out.

"I just…it's just…I didn't," the normally eloquent Lance Sweets was at a loss for words as that night from the bar caught up with him. "Forget it, I'll be back later."

_I'm onto you, Sweets, _Angela smiled triumphantly to herself.

"Okay, what in heaven's name is going on? This is _far_ beyond ridiculous," Cam marched into the room to break up their unofficial meeting. "Can someone please bring in the remains so we can get to work?"

"The remains were accidentally crushed into very small pieces by whoever was mowing the grass before we discovered the bones," Brennan said apologetically. "We're digging them up right now as we speak."

Right as she finished speaking, several FBI forensic scientists rolled in a large crate with what Kylie assumed were the remains and set them at the foot of the main table.

"What's this?" Cam asked.

"The remains," Dr. Brennan said, pleasantly surprised. "They came much sooner than I anticipated."

"All that?" her boss raised her eyebrows.

"Yes," Brennan replied. "Like I said, they were crushed into several pieces. It would've taken hours to separate them from the soil, so we took the entire surface area. Booth's people are checking the surrounding area for any remains we might've missed. Ms. Wells," she turned to her newest intern.

"Yes, Dr. Brennan?"

"I'd like you to assist Dr. Hodgins in separating the bones from the dirt and grass while he examines the particulates," she instructed. "Once you're done, I'll need you to go ahead and sort them, come up with an ID of the victim, and if you finish quickly, start determining a time and cause of death."

"Right away," she nodded enthusiastically, excited to get to work.

_Well this is awkward,_ Kylie glanced over her shoulder at Hodgins, whom she caught quickly going back to obtaining samples of the soil while handing her any bones he found.

Since he was extremely thorough, often grabbing at least 4 to 5 samples per square foot of the crate, she took the time to examine what bones she already had.

"The acute angle formed in the pubis area indicates our victim was male," she announced, taking note of it in her notebook while piecing together the pelvic bone, which had been crushed into five or six pieces. She looked to her right at his right tibia and fibula bones, which had in turn been broken into three pieces each. "His tibia and fibula suggest he was either really athletic, or large bone mass runs in his family."

Kylie placed her notebook down next to the remains and picked up a small fragment of what she assumed to be a carpal bone. "I think this guy broke one of his hands. Do you have a magnifying glass I can borrow?"

"Just use the one connected to the monitor," Hodgins said impatiently. "It's a little more accurate."

"Have you found any more bones?" she asked.

"Tons. Take 'em all."

She crouched to the ground and swept the pile of bones onto the metal tray, carefully setting them on the table for construction.

"How are the bones coming along, Miss Wells?" Dr. Saroyan swiped her card and stood over her new intern.

"From what I've found so far, which unfortunately isn't very much yet, our victim was male, as you can see here on the pelvic bone, and a really big guy," she pointed out. "I'll have a weight and height estimate when I've sorted through more of these."

"Alright, well that doesn't give us much to work off of. Could you have more for me in an hour?"

"Can't promise anything," Hodgins replied, to which Cam sighed.

"I'll be in my office."

About fifty bone pieces later, a thought suddenly occurred to her. "Where did Doctor Brennan find these remains?"

"A grass lawn," Hodgins replied curtly.

"And she said that they were accidentally crushed?"

"Where _were_ you half an hour ago?"

"The exact same spot that I'm standing now," she replied evenly.

"So what's your point?"

"My point is, the various fractures I'm seeing suggest otherwise. Why are you being rude to me?" Kylie stopped arranging the bones and peered down at Hodgins, who was examining some grass particulates through.

"Why didn't you tell me you knew Zack?" he countered.

"Is that what this is about?"

"Yes, actually. It is."

"Okay, look," she knelt down so that she was level with Hodgins. "That was supposed to stay a secret between Doctor Brennan and I. It just so happened that Cam kind of knew because I bumped into her when I visited him at the hospital."

"You heard me earlier," he bit his lip in frustration. "You heard me lamenting, grieving, hell, you even saw me _cry_, and you didn't think _once_ to tell me you knew him too?!"

"I wasn't going to tell anyone," she explained. "I knew if I did, y'all would be more focused on comparing me to him instead of working…"

"Did you just say 'y'all'?" Hodgins suddenly interrupted.

"And if I did?"

"Nothing," he grinned slightly, but tried to hide it. "Just would've never pegged you as a Southerner, that's all."

"My aunt's from Texas," she shrugged. "I lived with her in Seattle for 4 years before I came here. Even though she's lived there for awhile, she never really lost the accent, or the Texas slang."

"Okay," he said uncertainly.

"Not everyone who says 'y'all' is from the South. It's just faster than saying 'you all' or 'you guys' if you're talking real fast. In my case, it's a little bit of both that andmy aunt. Going back to what I was saying, I didn't want anyone to form preconceived notions of me based on my association with him," Kylie continued. "I wanted y'all, I mean, _you guys_…"

"Stick with 'y'all'," he grinned. "That can be your thing around here."

"Really?" she raised her eyebrows.

"Yeah. It'll shake things up a little. In a good way, of course."

"So I wanted _y'all_ to get to know me as an individual, and not just someone who used to be best friends with Zack."

"I'm sorry about Agent Booth earlier," Kylie turned in surprise as Doctor Brennan stepped onto the platform to examine the remains. "I thought I told him _very clearly_ not to bring that up, and he seemed to listen."

"That's alright," Kylie forgave her. "Agent Booth strikes me as the kind of person who gets excited over juicy facts."

"Facts do not excrete juice," she looked at her newest intern with a knowing look.

Kylie blinked twice. _Did I hear what I think I heard? _

"Miss Wells, is everything okay?"

"Figure of speech, Doctor B," Kylie mouthed a silent 'thank you' to Hodgins for coming to her rescue. "When you say something is juicy, it means that it has a lot of meaning to whatever it's describing, in Kylie's case, that meaning was sentimental."

"That makes sense," Brennan agreed. "So, Miss Wells, are any of these bones…juicy?"

"No, Doctor Brennan, they're completely dry," Kylie replied with a straight face as she tried not to burst out laughing at Brennan's misuse of the term.

Meanwhile, Hodgins' face glowed in delight. Perhaps working with Zack's old friend wouldn't be as depressing as he thought. "Kylie Wells, you and I are going to get along _splendidly_."

* * *

**FYI, I have never taken an anatomy class, only basic biology, so I had to google all the bone stuff and reference skeletal charts and different anatomy professors' websites. If any science majors think there's something I could word better, or make clearer/more distinct, please let me know! Also, I hope I didn't offend anyone from the Texas or the South! I promise that joke was all in good fun; I've even been there a few times (not Texas), and the people were really nice! The whole y'all thing I threw in there is actually something I find myself doing sometimes, and I'm a Californian born and raised, haha. People actually say it from time to time in my hometown, but if I say it when I go up to northern California, where I attend university, people look at me funny. Anyway, more Zack coming up in the next chapter (and not just mentions of him)! Sorry for neglecting him these past few chapters, but it was necessary for character development! Plus, Kylie can't possibly spend ALL her time in a loony bin, even if she would be reconnecting with her old best friend. Hope y'all enjoyed!**


	7. Chapter 7

**As I promised, Zack is back in this chapter. Enjoy, my pretties!**

* * *

"Kylie," Zack looked up from his seat in the visiting room, pleasantly surprised. After her outburst two weeks ago, he was sure she wasn't coming back.

"Hi," she smiled giddily, scooting in her chair slightly.

"I take it things are going well for you?"

"I don't know, _are_ they?" she teased as she retrieved her new Jeffersonian intern card from her purse.

"I was confident that Doctor Brennan would accept you," he smiled proudly.

"Thank you, Zack," she held his hands.

"You shouldn't thank me. You got in based on your own abilities," he stated with a grin. "I only discussed you with Doctor Brennan. You still had to prove yourself."

"Well it worked, right?"

"It appears so, yes," he agreed. "How's the case going?"

"Well," she began, "we just finished reconstructing the skeleton. Some parts were crushed into annoying little pieces when Doctor Brennan and Agent Booth recovered them, so you can imagine it took awhile."

"Interesting," he commented.

"It was kinda cool, actually, putting the skull together. It felt like an art project, in a way. Wait, am I allowed to talk about this with you? I really want to, but I don't want to get in trouble with Doctor Brennan…"

"You won't," he assured his friend. "Hodgins has brought me an entire case file before. Though I'm not sure that Doctor Brennan was aware of that when he did. Besides, I'm stuck in here, remember?"

"Yeah," she nodded with a sigh. "Doctor Brennan thinks the bones were accidentally crushed by whoever was mowing the lawn before they found them, but I don't think so."

"Why?" he asked, his curiosity piqued.

"After I finished putting together the skull and arranging the bones accordingly, I noticed that some parts bore more damaged than others. Some even appeared deliberate," she explained.

"Such as?"

"Numerous fractures in his sternum indicate suggest he was struck repeatedly with a heavy, blunt object," she explained. "His right tibia and fibula were broken into three pieces apiece, while his left ones were completely in tact. Those were one of the few whole bones we found. Also, he suffered multiple fractures in the ankle bones, but I haven't encountered any fractures, micro or otherwise, in the feet."

"Have you discussed your findings with Doctor Brennan?"

"Not really, no," she shook her head.

"Why not?"

"I came to this conclusion without having any idea of how it happened. All I can tell is that it wasn't accidental. I'm going off this gut feel that I got while taking some notes on the bones. And Cam told me Doctor Brennan _hates_ gut feelings as bases for proving a point."

"Doctor Saroyan is correct. I can't vouch for your findings as I'd have to see the bones for myself, but from my experiences with you, your observation skills have generally been accurate," he said thoughtfully.

"Okay, I'm sensing a 'but' after that," Kylie chuckled. "Spit it out."

"But in order to convince Doctor Brennan, you will have to come up with a plausible, alternative scenario to the one that she has provided. You'll need a murder weapon and time and cause of death to support your argument and provide strong factual evidence to back up your observations. What else have you found?"

"Um," Kylie pulled out her journal and turned to one marked with a pink flag. "Approximately twenty soil samples that Hodgins is currently analyzing, a few scraps of clothing, and some grass. Hodgins had a bunch of fancy names for them, but I like to keep it simple."

"You need the rest of the victim's clothing," Zack advised her. "Then you'll have something to compare Hodgins' samples and particulates to."

"Find the clothing," she wrote in her notebook, drawing a cloud around it. "Got it."

"Are you and Sweets together?" he abruptly asked, recalling Angela's excitement during her last visit with him.

"What did he tell you?" Kylie asked slowly, unsure if Lance was one of those guys who exaggerated the truth to promote his own masculinity.

"Nothing. He didn't mention you at all, actually. It was Angela," he admitted. "She tends to find things out before everyone, and she can't really keep secrets unless you ask her to."

"Why does she think that Lance and I are together?"

"I don't know," said Zack. "But she didn't seem to have any real proof."

When noticing his friend's silence and averted eye contact, he went on, "You're not saying anything. Is there something I'm missing?"

"Zack," she began. "Remember how I yelled at you the last time I was here? And how upset I was?"

"Yes, very well," he nodded. "I'm sorry for upsetting you."

"Well, after I left, I stopped by a bar to have a drink or two to clear my head. And, um, Doctor Sweets was there, too."

"Go on," he prompted.

"After talking for awhile, I, um…we kind of, um…"

"You kind of what?" Now Zack was confused.

"We made out in the bathroom," she confessed. "You know, um…_kissed_. A lot. With tongue and everything," she added as an afterthought.

When Zack didn't answer right away, she went on, "I totally understand if you feel weird about it, with him being your psychologist…"

"You provocatively exchanged saliva at the bar…in the _bathroom_?"

"Um, yeah…" Kylie giggled nervously. "But all our clothes stayed on, so I wouldn't say it was provocative."

"How unsanitary," he furrowed his brows slightly, which prompted her to burst into an uncontrollable giggling fit of laughter.

"Why are you laughing? I was stating a fact."

"I just hooked up with your psychologist," she raised her eyebrows still giggling, "and the first thing you comment on is how unsanitary it was to do it in a bathroom and not that I, well, hooked up with your psychologist."

"Oh," he agreed. "When Angela and Hodgins used to be together, they were never discreet about their…personal activities. Yours was rather mild compared to what I've unwillingly heard from them."

"I see," she inhaled and exhaled. "I haven't talked to Lance since that night, and whenever he's around, it's very…tense."

"You should talk to Angela," Zack said quickly, becoming uncomfortable. "I don't have much expertise in that area."

"I love Angela, but I don't know her very well yet," she shook her head. "Not like _you_."

"Okay, then," he went along with her, "I suppose you could talk to me."

"I'm reminded of that night at the bar every time he comes to the lab," she said, "and I think he is, too, from the way he doesn't acknowledge me whenever he's around, or the fact that I'd catch him looking at me when he thinks I don't notice, when I do. He's not the only one who knows how to be sneaky."

"If the tension bothers you, the most logical thing to do would be to talk to him," Zack said.

"I was afraid you'd say that," she sighed, twisting her hands in her lap.

"I believe he feels the same way, if that makes you feel better," he added thoughtfully.

"Really?"

"Yes," he replied. "It would help clear things up between you two, so that there will be no misunderstandings."

"I miss this, you know," she changed the subject. "Us talking about stuff, kicking ass in debate competitions. We made an awesome team."

"That we did," he smiled. "I think I still have some of our old trophies."

"I'm sorry I didn't come see you last week. I just needed a little time to think."

"Of course," Zack nodded. "When you left, it bothered me to see you so upset like that, and that I was the cause of that. But Sweets assured me you just needed some time and that you'd come around. Clearly, he was correct."

"Yes, he was," she agreed. She checked her phone before standing up and making her way around the table to stand at his side. "They're gonna kick me out anytime now."

"Will you come back soon?" he asked, getting up along with her.

"Of course I will." She stared into his deep chocolate brown eyes and reached up, affectionately ruffling the mop of hair on his head.

"We're standing very closely together," Zack looked down at the twelve-inch gap between the two of them. "Angela has told me that a hug would be appropriate in this situation."

"So should I give you a hug?" she asked coyly.

"If it's okay with you," Zack tapped his fingers nervously against his sides, "I would like to give _you _a hug."

"Oh, Zack," Kylie smiled through her watering eyes as Zack closed the gap between them and wrapped his arms around her petite body, with one arm encircling her waist and the other around her shoulders.

"Miss Wells, visiting hours are over," one of the guards popped in. "I'm afraid I'll have to ask you to leave."

"I know, but could you give me a minute?"

"Fine," he grumbled. "One minute."

"You really need to get out of here," she whispered in his ear.

"I know," she could feel him nod into her shoulder.

"You don't belong here," she sniffled.

"I know," another nod.

"Have you thought about what I said before?"

"Yes, I have."

"Good," she smiled contentedly, resting her head against his shoulder.

* * *

**So I just realized as I was working on this chapter that I've been spelling "tibia" as "tibula." Talk about science AND spelling fail! I'm surprised nobody noticed after the last chapter, but I'll be sure to fix that before anyone else does. I typed up this chapter and the next one almost at the same time, so the next one should be up soon after I've edited it. Hope y'all enjoyed! Thanks for reading!**


	8. Chapter 8

**Whoops, forgot the disclaimer thing on the last chapter, but same disclaimers as always!**

* * *

"Doctor Lance Sweets," the FBI psychologist picked up his phone, placing his feet up on his desk.

"There's a psychopath down here, who says she has a meeting with you!" the receptionist, Jim, whispered frantically over the phone.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, _what_?" Lance Sweets frowned, but at the same time was trying not to laugh. "Slow down. Can you repeat that?"

"There is a girl down here who says she made a last minute appointment with you," Sweets could sense the receptionist shivering as he slowed down his speech. "She claims to be a psychopath."

"Her name?" Lance now had a feeling about his visitor's identity, and he tried not to let his amusement show over the phone.

"Kylie Wells."

"Let her in," Doctor Sweets ordered.

"What?! But she's a psychopath!"

"Don't worry, man," Sweets chuckled. "I've got it covered." _Good one, Kylie_.

"So should I send her up?" the receptionist breathed.

"Tell her I look forward to meeting with her," Lance said with a smile before hanging up the phone.

As the realization of his next visitor hit him, he quickly scrambled to organize his desk, re-fluff the couch cushions, and straighten his tie and make sure his hair was presentable. He had unintentionally been ignoring her during his time spent at the Jeffersonian helping with their case, mainly because he had spent that time trying to figure out whether or not to confront her about that night, and he felt bad. Although she was rather intoxicated when they met, he knew deep down she was a nice girl that deserved to be treated with respect, and he would make sure she knew that.

Five minutes later, he settled back on his desk chair with a relieved sigh, only to miss his chair completely and land ass-first on the floor.

_This _would_ happen to me_, he grumbled internally.

"Hello?" Lance rubbed his head as he heard the newest Jeffersonian intern's voice and the click of a door.

_Shit_. _Way to go, Lance, _he scolded himself_. _"Miss Wells?"

"Lance? Where are you?" Kylie peered over the chair in front of her, wondering where the hell he was.

"Just a sec!" he slowly backed out from under his desk, only to meet more misfortune as his head forcefully met the edge of his desk.

"Oh my God, are you okay?" she rushed to his side, guiding him by his forearms to help him stand up. "Do you need an ice pack or something? Not that I have one, but I could go find one…"

"I'm fine, don't worry about it," he shook his head, placing a hand on her shoulder. "Thank you. Have a seat."

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah," he nodded quickly before leading her to the couch. "And for the future, don't tell the front desk you're a psychopath. I of course knew better, but you scared the crap out of our receptionist."

"Sorry. They wouldn't let me see you otherwise. Whoa, that made me sound like a stalker," she laughed awkwardly.

"Not at all, actually," Sweets waved his hand, recalling Agent Booth's stalker from the Tommy Sour case. "So what can I do for you?"

"Okay, um," she smiled nervously, tucking her long brown hair behind her ear. "Well there have been some things on my mind lately, and I thought maybe I should talk to someone about it. Someone like you."

"Why me in particular? What kind of things?" he asked, though he had an idea of where she was going with it.

"Please don't be mad," she inhaled and exhaled as she began tapping both her feet on the floor nervously. "But ever since I saw you again for the first time since that night at the bar on my first day at the Jeffersonian, that entire night keeps coming back to me."

"Why do you think that is?" he asked, secretly relieved to know that she was equally affected by that night as he was.

"I don't know. I was really, really upset that night, if you remember," she reminded him.

"Yes, very well," his face remained stoic. "Go on."

"I opened up to you that night more than I ever really do for anyone," she bit her lip. "You made me feel like it's okay to not be alone all the time. It's that feeling, I think, that I can't forget."

He nodded, waving an arm slightly to motion for her to continue.

"With that said, it kind of bothers me," she went on, "how you act like I'm not there whenever you're helping us at the Jeffersonian after I opened up to you like that."

"Before you continue, are you coming to me as a friend, or a patient?" Sweets stopped her.

"Does it matter?" she shrugged.

"Yes, it does."

"Okay," she shrugged again. "Friend."

"Alright." He stood up and gestured to the area next to her. "May I?"

She nodded silently as he sat down next to her.

"So you're basically telling me that you don't know how to act around me," he stated.

"Hey, I'm a friend, not a patient, _remember_?" she crossed her arms.

"Yes, I know, I'm not done," his tone came out harsher than he'd intended. "I know it's seemed like I've been avoiding you since you started interning at the Jeffersonian, but the thing is, I'm not sure how to act around you, either."

"You're not?" a relieved smile spread across Kylie's lips at the fact that he wasn't purposely shutting her out.

"No," he shook his head. "What you've seen as me ignoring you has actually been me trying to figure out a way to gracefully approach the subject without spilling what happened that night to everyone at the lab," he admitted.

"I guess it's good I came to see you, then."

"It is," he concurred. "Honestly, if you hadn't come here, I probably would've kept ignoring you."

"So can we be more open now that we've cleared things up?"

"Yeah, of course," he said, before changing the subject. "Can I ask you something?"

"Mhmm," she nodded.

"When you talked to me that night, about your friend," he subtly snaked his arm across the couch behind her.

"What about it?" she shifted uncomfortably.

"That was about Zack Addy, wasn't it?"

"You already knew that," she looked away. "Why'd you have to ask?"

"Zack talks about you sometimes," he explained. "He mentioned you during our first session shortly after he was transferred from the hospital. He called you an old friend."

"Did he?" she smiled wistfully.

"Yeah," he nodded. "I went to see him the morning after that night. He was visibly upset about whatever had happened between you two. You mean a lot to him."

"I know," she nodded. "He told me. Wait, don't you have some doctor-patient confidentiality thing?"

"Yes, but he was your friend first before my patient," he replied. "And I'm not giving away any medical or personal records, so I'm not violating anything."

"So I'm guessing you can't talk about his…situation?"

"No," he replied with finality.

"Even if I know everything?"

"How did he tell _you_ and not everyone else?" Sweets pulled back slightly, puzzled._ Zack trusted his old high school friend over his Jeffersonian colleagues?_

"I asked him," she replied, as if it were the simplest solution in the world. "Though it's possible he told me because I wasn't involved in it the way all of you were. I have my own thoughts about it, but out of respect for the confidentiality thing, I'll keep them to myself."

"I'm afraid you already told me," Lance smiled apologetically, his big, warm smile spreading across his face. It also happened to be the smile that made her want to kiss him that night.

"I did? When?" Kylie raised her eyebrows in surprise.

"That night," he reminded her. "You didn't give any specifics, but I think we both know what you were talking about."

"Right," she remembered, before turning to look at him. "That wasn't the way you should've gotten to know me."

"Things don't always happen the way we want them to," he said, moving the arm that was resting on the couch over her shoulder. "But it doesn't stop them from happening. If it helps at all, I was a little out of character myself."

"I hope the kissing part wasn't," she looked at him hopefully, her flirtier side kicking in.

"You tell me," he replied coyly, leaning in to plant a chaste kiss on her lips.

"You sneaky bastard," she giggled as she lightly pushed him over and pounced on top of him, crashing her lips onto his.

Before they knew it, they had both landed on the floor and were rolling around the psychologist's office, stopping every so often to feel each other up and take turns being on top.

"Are we going to do this every time we 'talk'?" Lance asked in the middle of Kylie's back massage.

"That would be a terrible idea," she laughed.

"What's so terrible about it?"

"If we did that, at the rate we go we'd destroy every place wherever we are. And I don't think Cam would like it very much if we destroyed her lab."

"I guess we'll have to be more careful, then," he smiled before leaning in to kiss her some more.

"In all seriousness, though," Kylie stopped him and lay down on the floor next to him. "I think we should take things slower from now on."

"You having second thoughts?" he asked playfully.

"No," she said honestly.

"So what is it, then?"

"I don't really know you," she sat up, placing an arm on his opposite side and allowing her long hair to cascade down. "We can't just go on and make out all the time without some sort of connection to go along with that."

"No, you're absolutely right," he sat up along with her, placing a hand on her shoulder. "That was stupid of me, I shouldn't have asked."

"Don't get me wrong, I do enjoy it," she pulled a hair tie off her wrist and gathered her hair at the nape of her neck in a side ponytail.

"As do I," he smirked. "So…one step at a time, then?"

"One step at a time," she nodded.

After a few quickly fleeting moments of trying to figure out what to do next, their lips met once again, but this time with slower movements.

"I thought we were taking this one step at a time," Kylie tried her hardest not to smile as she felt a cool hand up running up her backside.

"Technically this would be a continuation from five minutes ago," he pointed out knowingly, "since we never left the room."

"Hmm. I guess you're right," she shrugged with a smile as he pulled her back onto the floor with him.

"Hey," she breathed in between kisses. "Lance?"

"Mmm," he moaned as he nested his head into her shoulder while he wrapped his arms around her waist.

"Can we move back to the couch? This carpet sucks."

* * *

**Well, well, well. Kylie and Sweets...that's bound to stir things up around the lab ****_(if_**** they find out)! And sorry about Brennan, Booth and Angela not having much of a presence so far, but at least one of them will appear in the next chapter. Can't say which one since I haven't written it yet. Thanks again for reading!**


	9. Chapter 9

**Same disclaimers apply!**

* * *

Kylie Wells had first heard of the forensic anthropology field from her brother, who was a huge fan of Doctor Brennan's books and would unsuccessfully attempt to convince her to read them, but she'd never given it much thought until Zack presented to her the opportunity to intern under the greatest forensic anthropologist in the world. Dealing with gross things in addition to the bones was not her cup of tea, though she'd slowly gotten used to it from working in close proximity to Jack Hodgins, who had told her more than she needed or wanted to know about a variety of bugs, toxins and chemicals.

She knew from years of hanging around the Ann Arbor police department and growing up around her father, the late Chief of Police, and a now ex-cop-turned-FBI-agent-in-training for an older brother that she somehow wanted to do what they did. But unlike her father and brother, she was more interested in the science behind it all as opposed to interrogating people and catching them in their lies, though she was more than proficient at it if it ever became necessary, which was exactly how she caught Temperance Brennan in a lie during her lunch break.

"Ange, I need to talk to you," Temperance Brennan popped into the lunch room, where Angela and Kylie had been eating at separate tables.

"Can it wait?" Angela looked from her fresh Chinese take-out to her best friend.

"No, I'm afraid it can't. Booth found a new lead," Kylie detected a slight increase in Brennan's tone of voice, which – from what her dad taught her while she witnessed him during some interrogations – usually indicated the person was lying, hiding something, or both.

"No, he didn't." Damn her and her inability to filter what came out of her mouth, but her frustration at Dr. Brennan's unwarranted lack of trust in her had been boiling from her first day at the Jeffersonian.

"Excuse me, Miss Wells?" Dr. Brennan turned her attention to her week-old intern, appalled at her response.

"When you've found out something new, you usually tell Doctor Saroyan first," Kylie shrugged, hiding her ability to detect liars as she bit into her vegetable and hummus sandwich. "But when you go to Angela first, given that you're best friends, it's something that you don't really want everyone knowing."

"Alright, Bren, spill it," Angela crossed her legs and arms.

"I…can't," Temperance Brennan begrudgingly swallowed, still reeling from her youngest intern's perceptiveness. _Was she a trained psychologist? That would explain her…unique…observations_. _This is not acceptable. _

"Why not?" her best friend was confused.

But Kylie caught onto her mentor's subtle side-glance at her and confronted her. "Doctor Brennan, you clearly have something to say about me. Please save me the trouble and say it right to my face."

"I don't know what you're talking about," she unsuccessfully lied.

"Why don't you trust me?" Kylie cut to the chase, sitting up straight in her chair.

"Your credentials are lacking, Miss Wells," Brennan replied bluntly. "Everyone here has a Masters, if not a doctorate."

"I don't," Angela raised her hand. "I've only got a Bachelors in _Fine Arts_, yet you wouldn't solve half as many cases without me around, Bren."

"Ange, you're not helping," the forensic anthropologist cut her off. "Doctor Addy, the forensic anthropologist who sat where you're sitting, was my most brilliant assistant and colleague. Despite his recent actions, I still trust his judgment and consult with him from time to time on an array of topics. When Zack talked to me about you, I trusted that he was recommending someone whose skills and intellect were comparable to his. Unfortunately, for only the second time in the time I've known him, he was wrong."

Kylie's insides boiled with a newfound rage and anger as her entire body shook. She knew from her coworkers' frequent banter with Doctor Brennan that she could be difficult to work with, but for her to insult her intelligence without actually being around often enough to watch her do her work?

She knew she was risking her internship with the way she was about to talk to her mentor, but Kylie was not about to allow herself to endure the same pain from her first year on the debate team, where everyone except for Zack and her coach had judged her intellect based on her social status as a cheerleader. "I graduated magna cum laude with two degrees in anthropology and biology in four years," Kylie replied, disregarding any respect she had previously shown, "with a minor in psychology on top of that."

"Psychology hardly counts as an area of substantial study," scoffed Dr. Brennan, although she secretly appreciated Sweets and his crucial insights.

"Which is why Doctor Sweets has provided the missing keys in your evidence for past cases that you wouldn't have found otherwise," Kylie coldly retorted. "You've just made two mistakes in one day, Doctor Brennan. The first one was assuming that my IQ would be as high as Zack's, meaning that you also assume that anyone he deems talented has an IQ as high as his, which is incredibly inaccurate. I'm not gonna lie, Zack knows how smart he is, but he acknowledges his weaker areas, for which he defers to others without a problem. Your second mistake was judging me based on observing me only two times, both instances in which I've ended up being correct."

"You have no sense of logic or factual evidence in your observations," Brennan shook her head. She'd dealt with enough psychology mojo from Sweets alone; she wasn't about to condone it from her new intern, of all people. "I can't follow your line of thinking."

"Okay, I can't take this anymore," Angela cut in between the two of them and turned to her best friend. She knew Brennan was often narrow-minded and had limited perspectives, but this was the height of it. During her time with Kylie, she'd known right away that Kylie was something else. Her IQ was nowhere near as high as Zack's, but for what she lacked in IQ, she made up for in determination and hard work.

"Sweetie, take it from Hodgins, Cam and me. Ask _any _of us about Kylie. At least one of us is around her 24/7, and we see how hard she works. When she's not analyzing bones, she's helping me refine the murder scene, assisting Hodgins with his bugs or an experiment even when they gross her out, or helping Cam with the flesh samples. Not to mention she has scarily good insight into a murderer's head. I don't know how she does it, but she's _good._"

"Fine," Doctor Brennan huffed. "Miss Wells, you're in charge of the rest of this case."

"What?!" Angela and Kylie exclaimed in unison.

_No_! Kylie thought frantically. _All I wanted was for Doctor Brennan to be more open to different ways of thinking and to accept the way I work, not to actually lead an entire case!_

"If you truly believe you're qualified to be here, then show me. I will take no part whatsoever, nor will I offer you any consultation, or any of you for that matter. I will simply...watch."

"But what about the interrogations and field work you do with Agent Booth?" Kylie asked.

"If your insight into a killer's brain is as good as Angela says, I'd like to see it. For the remainder of this case, you have the lead. Either that, or I could always fire you."

Kylie couldn't believe her mentor would resort to blackmail to make her prove herself, but at that point, she would do anything to prove her worth to the best forensic anthropologist in the world. "Challenge accepted."

* * *

"Are you sure about this, Doctor Brennan?" Camille Saroyan asked her colleague upon hearing the shocking news from Angela.

"If she's as hardworking as you all say, then yes," Doctor Brennan said with finality.

"Will anything I say convince you to reconsider?" Cam already knew what the answer would be, but she decided to ask anyway.

"No."

She'd never seen Brennan doubt an intern as strongly as she did Kylie; it was incredibly unlike her. And to force her to lead a case to prove herself? It wasn't right, Cam knew, but she was well aware of Brennan's lingering emotions from Zack's fate that she unsuccessfully tried to hide, and if Kylie leading the case would provide her with some sense of closure, then she was on board with it.

"Then you better call Booth."

* * *

**Sorry this took a little longer to update than usual! I couldn't decide how I wanted to present this next turn of events, but I finally decided to go with something a little different. This chapter gave a little more insight into Kylie's character, since I realized that anything you've learned about her so far has come from what she tells others and the way they react to her, and you don't really know too much about her background. I don't want to spell it out ****_too _****much though, because that'll take away from any potentially interesting conversations with other characters, and to be honest, I might not even get to all of it. Would anyone be interested in a prequel that explores how Kylie met Zack and became best friends, and how she ended up the way she is in this story? Let me know! Thank you all for keeping up! **


	10. Chapter 10

**Same disclaimers as always!**

* * *

With the amount of time he spent and the things he'd seen as a sniper and army ranger, FBI special agent Seeley Booth was difficult to shock. His partner, Dr. Brennan, had her own share of surprises, but her latest one had him questioning her sanity. Leaving the fate of an _FBI case _in the hands of a 22-year-old intern? He hadn't spent much time around Kylie Wells, but he was unsure she was ready for such a big responsibility. From what Angela, Hodgins and Cam had told him about her, she was punctual, thorough and hard-working in the lab, but outside of that, the three of them drew a blank, and that worried him. What was Kylie Wells _really_ like?

"So, um, where's Doctor Brennan?" Kylie asked as Agent Booth opened the door to the Royal Diner. "She said she'd be observing me."

"She will. I just thought we could have a little chat and grab a bite to eat first," he shrugged, making an excuse to get to know his temporary partner without Bones scrutinizing her.

"Why?" she frowned.

"Get to know you a little. Sure, it's just one case, yada, yada, yada. But if I can't get a feel for you, this won't work. Then, this case is screwed, and Bones'll fire you from the Jeffersonian. So what'll it be?"

Booth and Brennan were completely opposite in personality, Kylie observed, but their methods of blackmail were remarkably similar, albeit executed differently. "What do you want to know?"

"Anything," he replied honestly. "Maybe how you and Zack became buddies, since that seems to be the thing around here."

"My brother forced me to join the debate team," Kylie rolled her eyes at the memory. "I guess I argued too much for my own good."

"Well did you?"

"Eh," Kylie scoffed. "I like to think of it more as me pointing out where he was wrong. He didn't like that too much."

"What about your parents? What'd they have to say about that?"

"They're dead," she replied coldly.

"Both of them?" Booth was shocked. Going through high school without one parent was tough enough, he could vouch for that, but _both _parents?

"My parents' will stated that if anything were to happen to them, we'd either move to Texas with my aunt and uncle, or if my brother was 18, he'd become my legal guardian," she explained.

"Wow." _So she spent a crucial chunk of her life without any real parental figures_, Booth blinked a few times. If only Bones knew how much her intern was just like her, he thought.

"That's a good word to describe it," she agreed.

"Any chance you'd want to talk about that?" Booth asked, sensing that she was still suffering emotional trauma from her parents' death.

"No," she said firmly, clamming up.

Kylie was relieved when the waitress came to take their orders; she'd never talked about her parents' death to anyone, except for Zack. His logical perspective provided her a sense of comfort, unlike others, who would always pity her or act sensitive around her. She and her brother saw a grief counselor for a while, but it didn't do much for either of them, especially her.

"Alright," Booth backed off, not wanting to piss off both Bones and her intern. "So Zack, then?"

"What about him?" she asked, partially to give Booth a hard time. She couldn't help it; it was her defense mechanism when people asked anything personal.

"You said you met in the debate club. In high school?"

"Yeah," she replied. "We became partners for tournaments, which we always won. I'm not bragging; it's a fact."

"Never said you were," Booth held up his hands in surrender, lightly chuckling. He had to give it to Kylie; she had attitude, and her bragging remark reminded him of Zack.

"Our coach usually switched us around so that we got a chance to work with everyone, but I seemed to be the only person who could get through to Zack, so he kept us together. We even won nationals in our senior year by two-tenths of a point. It was insane; we went up against a team from California where _both _of them were basically Zack clones, genius-wise," she went on.

"Clearly you guys had a good thing going on. I take it you visit Zack at McKinley from time to time?"

"Mhmm," she nodded. "Just saw him 3 days ago." _Wherein we semi-awkwardly discussed how Lance and I hooked up_, she silently added to herself. But then again, things always got that way with Zack, even though it was unintentional. His lack of social graces and to-the-point manner brought up many awkward moments between the two; she remembered laughing at him for days when she first heard him refer to sex as coitus, which just so happened to be shortly after she'd lost her virginity in her sophomore year of high school.

* * *

**_Six years earlier..._**

_"You weren't at debate today." _

_Kylie jumped slightly at the sound of her debate partner's voice. She kept her head down, not wanting to show that she had spent the time she should've spent at debate crying in the girls' locker room. "My stomach hurt." _

_That wasn't completely a lie, she figured, but Zack saw through her anyway. _Him and his damn genius perception, _she grumbled internally. "I beg to differ."_

_"I already had enough crap to deal with today," she threw her cheer bag angrily on the ground. "Didn't want to deal with _more_ insufferable assholes."_

_"I am an…insufferable asshole?" Zack frowned slightly. They'd treated each other with kindness, in his point of view, in their two years as partners; it puzzled him as to why she would refer to him as such._

_"Not you," she shook her head, sniffling and rubbing her fingers against her nose. "You're probably the only person in there who doesn't judge me based on the fact that I'm a cheerleader."_

_"It is highly illogical to judge a person's aptitude based on an activity he or she chooses to partake in for leisure," he replied, moving to sit next to her on the bench in front of the school. "Your decision to wave bundles of plastic in the air and perform lackluster gymnastics during football and basketball games does not correlate with your intelligence."_

_"Was that a compliment or an insult?" she laughed through her sniffling._

_"I was paying you a rather high compliment," Zack couldn't comprehend how his partner didn't get that; in his mind, he had made himself perfectly clear. "Something is deeply bothering you," he further observed from Kylie's puffy eyes and nose, which indicated she had spent a good amount of time crying in the past couple of hours._

_"No _shit_, Sherlock," she rolled her eyes to look at him, not caring about her raccoon eyes from her eyeliner and mascara, or the black tear stains on her cheeks that resulted from her raccoon eyes._

_"Would you like to talk about it?" he asked in an unusually gentle tone._

_"I've never felt so stupid in my life," she buried her face in her knees, sobbing again. She should've seen it; it was too good to be true. Chris certainly _seemed _respectful. He never openly pushed her to have sex, but she knew his random, sexually suggestive touches to various parts of her body should have waved a red flag. At first she thought that because he respected her enough to wait until she was ready, he'd continue to respect her after that; boy, was she wrong. "I wanted my first time to be special."_

_"First time for what?" Zack was confused. People had first times for many things; what was Kylie's?_

_"You've got to be kidding," she looked at him in disbelief. _

_"Oh," he realized what his partner was referring to. "Coitus."_

_She blinked for a few seconds, unsure whether or not to laugh. She was pretty sure that was the first time someone had ever referred to sex as coitus, even though that was one of several technical terms. "Coitus?"_

_"Coitus," he nodded. "Sexual intercourse. When the male genitalia…"_

_"I know what sex is," she cut him off shortly before thrusting her head into the crook of his neck, sliding her arms around his waist. "I thought maybe he actually liked me for _me_, and not what was in my pants."_

_Zack swallowed, concerned for her. She had not fully recovered emotionally from her father's death; he was sure his second death anniversary was two weeks ago. His family often expressed concern that his genius-level intelligence prevented him from connecting with others around him, which left him surprised by his actions when he reciprocated Kylie's affections for the first time, delicately wrapping his lean arms around her petite frame._

_"As my sister would say," Kylie lifted her head as he spoke. "You deserve better."_

_She smiled through her tears, reaching up to touch his cheek affectionately. "Thank you, Zack."_

_In return, Zack tightened his hold on her, doing his best to keep her from shaking. "You're welcome, Kylie."_

* * *

"Bones tells me he recommended you?"

"He did," Kylie confirmed. "I wasn't sure about it at first because I don't have a doctorate like the other interns do or will, but I decided to give it a shot."

"A person's worth is determined by more than just a doctorate or a degree," Booth pointed out. "What makes you think you're up for this?"

"Other than motivation by the fact that Dr. Brennan will fire me if I don't pull this off, I'd like to make sure that I didn't spend excessive amounts of time in a police department when I was a child for nothing," she replied bluntly as the waitress brought her the pancakes she'd ordered.

"A police department?" Now Booth was intrigued. Kids usually spent their childhoods at friends' houses, in playgrounds, or at after-school activities, but this girl spent hers at a _police department_?

"My dad was Chief of Police back in Ann Arbor for fifteen years until he died," Appreciating the FBI agent's non-persistent manner when it came to personal details, Kylie decided to take a chance and open up to him. "He didn't trust babysitters, nor did he want to pay for one anyway, so he'd bring me to the police station after school or cheerleading practice and I'd do my homework there and wait for him to finish his duties. After my dad died and my brother eventually became a cop, I'd still go there sometimes to visit Paola, the pathologist I became friends with when I was young. I'd help her drain the bodily fluids, or with x-rays and stuff like that. When I was old enough, I even helped her with a dissection, but don't tell my brother that. I'm pretty sure he'd shoot me."

That explained a lot, Booth put the pieces together. Being raised by two male cops was bound to make for an interesting upbringing, and he was eager to learn more, but her Bones-like tendency to keep personal details close to her chest kept him from pressing her for more details.

"The dead bodies didn't bother you?" he decided to ask instead.

"It's not like they were going to come back to life and stab me or something," she shook her head with a short laugh and paused momentarily to recall her first dissecting experience when she was 12.

Booth chuckled along with her as his phone buzzed in his pocket, interrupting their bonding moment. "Booth. Yeah, Bones, we just wanted to grab a bite to eat first. Don't you want your squint to have as much energy as possible?" He paused to roll his eyes; Kylie figured she was berating him for taking too long and covered her mouth as she snickered. "Okay, okay, _fine_. We'll be there in five."

* * *

**I don't really have much to say about this chapter, other than that it was somewhat of a filler. I wanted to get Zack in the chapter again, but I didn't want Kylie to take another trip to the loony bin, hence the flashback (which would reappear in the potential prequel, if enough people are interested). I also wanted to explore her background a little more, and I decided that Booth would be an appropriate person for her to open up to first; I was debating between him and Sweets, but she was just with Sweets a couple chapters ago. So there ya go. Hope y'all enjoyed it. Feedback is always appreciated!**


	11. Chapter 11

**Same disclaimers as always!**

* * *

Kylie swiped her card to the forensics platform, with Doctor Brennan at her heels. It was rather annoying when someone watched over her shoulder while she worked, but it had to be done, for her sake.

As Dr. Brennan had promised, she made no comments as Kylie reexamined the bones for anything she might have missed and compared any new findings to her notes. She had determined that the right tibia and fibula had been deliberately broken by an as-of-yet unidentified axe post-mortem, but she had trouble determining cause of death. There were no bullet wounds present that she could find, and there were no signs of strangling or trauma to the head . The victim's 6'4", 250-pound frame would prove difficult to inflict physical harm on; whoever killed him planned the murder extremely carefully.

She was sure that the killer was significantly weaker than the victim, Rocky Johnson, the star quarterback at Georgetown. The trauma near his sternum and clavicle indicated that the killer used a heavy, blunt object to subdue him, but that still didn't explain the fractures in his ankles.

"Brennan," Kylie heard her mentor answer her phone as she began coming up with hypotheses for a possible murder scenario. "Of course. She's just finishing up her bone examinations. We should be there shortly."

"You're observing me outside the lab, too?" Kylie asked confusedly as Doctor Brennan led her to her blue Prius. She was secretly relieved to take a break from the bones; she had found nothing new from the first few times she had looked over them. Perhaps some time with the interrogations would bring her attention to something she'd overlooked and help piece together some of Hodgins' or Cam's findings.

"Like I said before, I am curious about your insight into a killer's mind, so yes, my evaluation of you would include your activity with Booth outside the lab, as well. Booth has requested your presence during these interrogations," Brennan replied with no emotion.

Kylie hadn't witnessed an interrogation since she was a pre-teen. Her father hadn't wanted her around during interrogations because he didn't want to traumatize her, but being the stubborn child she was, she snuck into the listening room anyway and observed both her father's abilities to get information or catch liars and the suspects' body language in response to her fathers' actions.

"Miss Wells, this is Doctor Lance Sweets," Brennan introduced the young psychologist to her intern as they entered the other side of one of the interrogation room of the J. Edgar Hoover building, unaware that the two of them were already quite well acquainted.

Kylie and Lance, both aware of the present situation, kept up their respective appearances.

"Pleasure to meet you," Kylie gave her friend a firm handshake.

"And you as well," he nodded with a polite smile.

"He will be present in this room for psychological support, should you need it," Brennan replied.

"What about you, Doctor Brennan?" Sweets turned to the forensic anthropologist.

"Kylie Wells is the surrogate forensic anthropologist for this case," Brennan replied. "Consulting of any kind should go through her."

"Alright," Sweets nodded as she stepped back into the shadows. He turned to Kylie. "Booth has an ear piece that enables us to assist him with interrogations without actually having to be there with him. If you see anything off, don't hesitate to tell him." He stepped aside to open up the space in front of the microphone.

"Understood," Kylie gulped, more nervous than she'd expected. Her final memory with her father consisted of him standing where she currently stood as he'd assisted with a high-profile investigation involving a serial killer on the loose for the past seven years at the time. He hadn't wanted her out of his sight because of the alleged killer's presence, so he'd brought her into the listening room, where she'd sat on the chair beside him while he assisted the police officer interrogating the suspect. The memory was bittersweet now as she focused on the task at hand; she inhaled, resisting the urge to shed a few tears in front of both Lance and her mentor.

Listening to Booth interrogating the current suspect, the victim's football coach, she decided to test some hypotheses she had made while examining the bones.

"Judging from the lack of fatal trauma to the bones, as all the fractures and striations present were either post-mortem or nonfatal, the killer most likely poisoned him or injected him with some lethal fluid," Kylie spoke into the microphone, "He or she covered up their tracks pretty well; we still haven't found what did it, but I don't think we should be looking at the coach. We're looking for someone way more educated, ideally with a medical background."

"I agree," Lance turned to his friend. "Our killer knew a thing or two about covering up tracks. The coach lacks a motive, but he knows something."

"The players weren't as fond of our victim as the coach was. Ask him who's a med or pre-med student on the team," Kylie said to Booth.

Booth nodded subtly. The coach interpreted this nod as him listening to him intently, so he went on.

"He's not our killer," Lance shook his head.

"Find out how his best friend, Jackson Harding, got onto the team," an idea suddenly came to Kylie. What if Jackson had somehow bribed his coach with money to give him a spot on the team and killed his best friend out of jealousy so that he could finally have the chance to shine? From her experiences, jealousy was always a potential motive for murder.

"We talked to him," the psychologist said. "His alibi checked out, and their friendship was solid. Jealousy didn't play a part here."

"We need to talk to him again," she insisted. "It might not be him, but someone connected to him. Was he dating anyone? Was our victim?"

Not wanting to argue in front of Doctor Brennan, Lance urged Booth, "Let him go. We might need to talk to him again, but right now we need Jackson Harding."

"What are you _thinking_, Squint?" Booth asked, storming out of the interrogation room and confronting the 22-year-old brunette who had hampered his momentum. "We had him there!"

"I have a name, you know," she crossed her arms. "And like I said, we need to talk to the victim's best friend again."

"Fine, but you're doing the honors," Booth shook his head, frustrated with both the squint and the shrink, although secretly impressed with the amount of gut she had. "Tomorrow, 8am."

Kylie swiftly departed the interrogation room, with Brennan on her heels. She couldn't help it; being in that room brought back memories of her father, and after nearly 10 years, she still hadn't fully recovered emotionally from his death.

"Doctor Brennan," Lance Sweets caught up with the two women. "Could I see Miss Wells in my office?"

"What for?" Brennan asked suspiciously.

"This was her first interrogation," he replied quickly, thinking on his feet. "I just want to help her process anything she might've had trouble with, since they can be intimidating at first." His reasoning was partially true, but he also needed an excuse to catch up with her, since she had practically confined herself to the lab ever since she had been given the reigns for their case, and truth be told, he missed her.

"She seemed just fine to me, Sweets."

"With all due respect, people aren't your strongest point," he smiled. "I'll make sure she gets back to the lab within the next hour."

"Fine," Doctor Brennan huffed. "One hour."

* * *

"Where'd you learn to do that?" Lance couldn't help but ask as he placed the "busy" sign on his window.

"Do what?" she asked innocently.

"You just helped profile our potential killer," he said, knowing fully well that she knew what he was asking.

"So?" Her defense mechanisms kicked in the way they had done with Booth. Her opening up to him was a one-time thing, she tried to tell herself. It wouldn't happen again.

"I saw you in there," he said, sitting next to her on the same couch they had hooked up in the last time they met. "You looked like you'd done that before."

Kylie looked from the suede material of the couch up into Lance's warm brown eyes, internally debating if she should also open up to him.

"If it helps, I already know," he went on, even if she didn't answer. Out of concern for Brennan's intern, Booth had told him what she'd just shared shortly after he'd taken her to breakfast.

"He told you?" she asked in a low, angry voice. Kylie had shared parts of her life with Booth in confidence. How could he betray that?

"He was worried about you," Lance took one of Kylie's hands in his. "And I am, too. That's the only reason he told me. I promise."

"I never should've told him," Kylie's voice wavered. "It's so much easier when fewer people are involved."

"You do realize that your persona is a compilation of feelings and unresolved issues you've been bottling up over time," Lance switched into shrink mode; he wasn't confident enough to be able to provide her objective counsel as a friend.

"_Stop it_, Lance." Millions of tiny vibrations flowed through her body as she felt her invisible walls slowly start to crumble.

"If you keep going like this, you will be deemed psychologically unstable and unfit for work, and not just at the Jeffersonian," he tried again, gripping her hand tighter.

"So what? I'm destined for a loony bin?" she scoffed mirthlessly. She already knew she was mentally unstable. "You gonna make an exchange? Me for Zack, who we both know shouldn't even be there?"

"Don't talk like that," Sweets' voice turned dark. "You didn't ask for any of what you've been through, but you need help."

"No!" she shouted. "I don't!"

"Yes," he placed both hands on her shoulders, massaging them with his thumbs. "You do. It's not too late, Kylie, but you have to let me help you. Or Booth, if you'd prefer, but personally, I like to think I'm better at keeping things close to the chest." Lance usually made it a point to separate his work and personal lives, but Kylie was making it hard for him to do so. He knew from their very first conversation that she'd suffered from severe emotional damage, and not just from Zack's current situation, but he'd made a mental note to not bring it up until the time was right.

"Do you remember what I told you that night?" he asked softly when she'd calmed down.

"You told me a lot of things that night." Despite her slow emotional breakdown, she still retained her stubbornness.

"You know what I'm talking about."

"No, I don't," she lied.

"You're not the only one good at detecting liars, Miss Wells," he smirked. "I'd like you to repeat what I told you."

"Why?"

"You know why."

With much effort on her end, she finally relented. "Expressing and admitting my emotions is the first step to healing."

"Very good, Miss Wells," he nodded.

"Could you please stop calling me that?"

"Only if you cooperate." Their friendship had grown from the first time they'd met even more so ever since they'd decided to slow things down between them. He hated doing this to her, but it was necessary if she was going to finally get the help she needed.

Kylie's breathing rate increased heavily, adjusting to the fact that her previously closed wounds had been reopened. Or opened more, she should say, because they'd never really closed to begin with; that much was certain. Despite her belligerent demeanor when it came to her personal life and background, she secretly appreciated Lance giving enough of a crap about her to actually want to help her, unlike the grief counselor who spent more time pitying her and her brother than actually helping them process their emotions.

"When do we start?" she gave in, allowing herself another chance for someone to help her.

"Tomorrow," he answered. "You name the place."

"Like a date?" she asked hopefully.

"No," he shook his head firmly. "In all honesty, you're not in a position to pursue _any_ sort of romantic relationship right now."

"But you're not denying that you want it, too," she stated.

"No, I'm not," he admitted. "But for now, it's best if we keep things where they are. It won't end well for either of us if we go any further at this point."

"The diner," she decided. "Strictly professional. After I finish up at the lab."

"I look forward to it, Kylie," he smiled as he escorted her out of his room.

"You called me Kylie!" her face lit up. "Are you back to being Lance again?"

"Don't push it." Despite his attempt to be serious, she sensed an ever so slight teasing hint to his voice, and she smiled to herself. Maybe a little change wouldn't be so bad.

* * *

**For the rest of the story, I won't be focusing much the contents of the interrogations that Kylie participates in because it's her skills in the lab that matter more to the plot; the other stuff is just icing on the cake that is inevitable due to her upbringing. This was just kind of a kick off of the case with her at the wheel. And just a heads up, I'm starting school again in less than a week, so I unfortunately won't be updating this as often as I currently do, but I'm not abandoning the story, I promise! On another note, I've reached 10 followers! Yay! I know it's not a lot compared to other stuff I've written, or other Bones stories out there, but I'm still very happy about it! I also want to thank everyone for reading/following/favoriting/etc. Even if y'all don't post reviews all the time, whenever I get a new favorite/follow, I know people are reading it and I must be doing something right. Thank you all so much again, and stay tuned!**


	12. Chapter 12

**Same disclaimers!**

* * *

"Tell me again why you're running this case?" Michael Wells rubbed his forehead. Watching his younger sister stress over a case not only reminded him of his earlier years as an Ann Arbor cop, but it also stressed him out to watch her do so. Although he was happy for Kylie and her leadership of the case despite her lack of professional experience, he had mixed feelings. He was confident she could handle the high-stakes environment; that came from years of watching both him and their dad. But it was also her volatile emotional state that worried him. He would forever kick himself in the ass for trading in his brotherly duties for that of a surrogate father. In doing so, he was more concerned with what he thought was best for her without giving any thought to what was going through her scatter-brained head, and he was nearly one hundred percent certain that she resented him for it.

"Because Doctor Brennan will fire me if I don't," Kylie kept her eyes glued to her laptop screen as she magnified each of the one-hundred-plus pictures she'd taken of the bones before she'd left for lunch. Unlike the rest of her new colleagues, who were going out to eat at the Royal Diner or some other place, she brought her work home with her. There was no way in hell she was going to let Doctor Brennan win.

"Why would she do that?" Mike was puzzled. Wasn't Doctor Brennan smarter than that?

"Because I'm not smart enough for her," she replied bitterly.

"What're you talking about?" he threw his hands in the air. "You're one of the smartest people I know! Not counting Zack, but still! You wanna tell me what's going on?" he pulled up a chair and sat next to her. "You've been freaking me out here."

"Don't worry about me, I'm fine," Kylie attempted to push him away like she always did, but to no avail.

"Tell me." Her brother didn't budge, much to her discontent.

"Look, I'm already getting therapy, okay?! I don't need your constant nagging on top of that."

"Since _when _are you getting therapy? And why didn't you tell me about this?" His sister was getting _therapy_. She'd resisted shrinks in the past like no other. What was different about this one?

"Don't have to," she shrugged. "Doctor-patient confidentiality."

"Who are you seeing?" he asked curiously. If this shrink was doing some good for his sister, perhaps he could do some good for him as well. He'd been denying it for awhile, but he could use it.

"Doctor-patient confidentiality," she stood her ground, refusing to tell him. "If you wanted to know so bad, I'm sure you could find out some other way."

"When are you seeing him?"

"How do you know it's a guy?" she challenged.

"You've never gotten along with women shrinks," he reminded her, thinking back to the grief counselor they had seen for about a month following their father's death before she gave up on them because she couldn't handle Kylie, or the school counselor she'd been force to meet with daily following a suspension for dislocating someone's jaw.

"Right," she nodded, before noticing a needle marking on his right ulna she'd initially figured to be a sign of remodeling. Thinking back to the initial interrogation from the coach, where she'd deduced that the victim had been poisoned or injected with a lethal fluid, Kylie further narrowed her deduction when Cam had found strains of a sedation anesthesia commonly used in wisdom tooth surgeries in one of the flesh samples she had separated from the soil. The strains had been particularly difficult to get due to the state of decomposition the body had been found in, so it wasn't much to go off of, but it was a start.

"Hey, Mike?" she furrowed her eyebrows at the screen as she slowly clicked the up, down, left and right arrows to examine the bone area.

"What's up?" he asked from the kitchen.

"Could you come here for a sec?"

"Thought you didn't want to tell me anything," he said, not looking up from the counter where he made himself a turkey, lettuce and tomato sandwich.

"I don't. But I just thought you should look at this."

"You know I don't do blood, Ky," he rolled his eyes.

"There's no blood, I promise. Besides, if you're going to be a badass FBI agent, you're gonna to have to learn to at least tolerate it. So, _please_?" she gave him her sad puppy dog eyes that always worked on him.

"I swear, Ky, if there's _any _blood…what is that?" he asked as she tilted the laptop screen in his direction.

"It's a needle mark," she replied excitedly. "I think I've just determined the cause of death!" She got up from the chair and danced around the living room in delight.

"A _needle_?" he raised his light-colored eyebrows.

"Not just any needle," her hazel eyes only grew wider the more excited she got. "I've seen this before. The tip looks exactly like the needle they used on me to give me the when I got my wisdom teeth removed when I was 16."

"You actually remember shit like that?" he laughed.

"Dad always taught us to pay attention to details, even the most seemingly trivial ones," she shrugged. "Plus I wanted to take a good look at the place before they knocked me out for an hour to pull my teeth out."

"Good thing you remembered that, then," he gave her an encouraging pat on the shoulder. "How do you know it's that exact needle though, and not a generic hospital one?"

"Doctor Saroyan found traces of sedation anesthesia commonly used in wisdom tooth surgery in one of the flesh samples on his right radius," she replied. "And when they sedate you, they always put the needle in roughly that area. I need the Angelatron to make sure, but judging from the angle of depression, the killer was left handed."

"The what?"

"My coworker, Angela, created it," she explained quickly as she gathered her things. "It helps with murder scenarios and weapons and physics and stuff. She minored in computer science. I gotta get back to the lab!"

She jumped up excitedly, hastily pulling on her combat boots and ejecting the flash drive from the USB port of the computer.

"But you didn't eat!" her brother protested.

"I'll live!" she called from the doorway, already out the door before he could toss her half of his turkey sandwich.

* * *

"You found this just now?" Angela was impressed with Zack's old friend as she magnified the image at 700 percent, per Kylie's instructions.

"That's right," Kylie tiptoed up and down on the balls of her feet, unable to stand still. "The magnifier here only goes up to 500 percent, but I was able to get it to 700 on my computer at home."

"Looks like we're due for an upgrade, huh, Sweetie?" Angela called to her best friend.

"Just focus on the case, please!" Doctor Brennan called back from her office.

"Don't you want to see your mini-you in action?!"

"She cannot possibly be what you say," she continued typing up another draft for her next book. "She is not a genius."

"Sweetie, no offense, but if anyone's a genius, it's Zack," Angela shook her head. "But you do come close."

"If Doctor Addy was truly a genius, then why is he in a mental asylum?!" Brennan snapped, her voice rising as she stormed out of the lab. She never should have hired her newest intern; she only made the pain from Zack's departure worse. She knew deep down Kylie was talented for her age, but her personal pride and, dare she say, _jealousy_ got in the way, and everyone around her knew it.

"We all make mistakes," Angela attempted to reason with her best friend, to no avail.

"Continue working without me," Temperance Brennan shook her head, preparing to leave so that she wouldn't say anything she would regret later. "Miss Wells, you are free to go home early, if you'd like."

"She'll be perfectly fine with Cam and me," Angela assured her. "Have a little faith in us."

"Faith doesn't get you anywhere," Brennan crossed her arms. "I find that trust is the better term."

"Okay, then. Trust us, Bren. She's been handling all this really well," Angela pulled the youngest girl into a side hug. "If that were me, it would've been too much. I would've fallen apart at the seams. I don't know how she does it."

"I want updates every hour," Brennan gave in. "Only because she is doing a commendable job."

"Only commendable?" Hodgins joined the three women. "She's been awesome the entire time she's been here! Do what you have to, Doctor B. She's in good hands."

"I would hope not! You are to maintain at least twenty-four inches in distance from her at all times," Brennan looked at her entomologist in shock.

"Figure of speech, Sweetie!" Angela laughed.

"Whatever. But Miss Wells is free to leave whenever she wants, as I will not be here to personally supervise her. Goodbye."

"With all due respect, Dr. Brennan," Kylie stepped forward, stopping her in her tracks. "I'm not going anywhere. I'm finishing what I started, and you're not going to stop me."

* * *

**Sorry for the slower update! I finally got settled into my new apartment for the year. I've started the next chapter already, but I'm still deciding how I'm going to lay it (along with the rest of the story) out. I do have an end game for all this, though, so I've been working around that. I probably won't update again til the weekend, since I'll have a lot of college work, but I'll try to work on a little bit of it every day. Hope y'all enjoyed it, and for those of you just starting school this week, have a good first week of school! **


	13. Chapter 13

**Same disclaimers as always! Enjoy, y'all!**

* * *

Anyone who worked with Temperance Brennan knew that she was one stubborn mule. With her, anything she says goes, and it often took copious amounts of evidence and facts to prove her wrong – _if _she was wrong, that is. She also didn't believe in intuition; in her eyes, there was always a logical explanation for everything. This perspective also led her to question why a nagging feeling presented itself at the pit of her stomach whenever she began to think of her new intern. _Cam's wrong_, she insisted to herself as she pulled into the parking lot of McKinley. _I haven't been too harsh on her. My lack of trust in her isn't unreasonable. She has no professional credibility to back up her skills._

_That you know of_, a tiny voice that sounded a lot like Angela popped into her head, causing the forensic anthropologist to jump in her seat.

"Ange?" she said out loud.

_No, Sweetie, just your brain talking. It just so happens that I sound like her because she's one of the few people you seem to listen to_, the Angela-voice continued.

"Am I dreaming?"

_No, just thinking, _the voice assured her. _And no, you're not going crazy. But you _are _visiting a loony bin, so it'd kinda go with the territory._

"Should I even be here?" she wondered aloud. _Do I _want _to be here?_

_ You want answers, right? _Angela-but-not-really-Angela asked.

"Yes. Very much."

_Then you're at the right place._

* * *

"Doctor Brennan," Zack gasped in surprise at his former mentor sitting across from him.

"Hello, Zack," she smiled. "Were you expecting someone else?"

"Yes, actually, I was." It seemed like ages since Kylie had visited; he'd anticipate her visits every Tuesday and Friday, but to his great disappointment, she hadn't shown on either day in the past week.

"That's why I came here," she replied steadily.

"How is she?" he asked. "Does she work well with everyone?"

"She does."

"Is it true that she's leading the current case?" Zack couldn't believe it. Not only did he never find himself in her position during his tenure at the Jeffersonian, but he also couldn't believe that Doctor Brennan would doubt his judgment. Minus the Gormogon incident, he liked to think his logic was quite sound.

"Yes," she replied with no emotion. "I wanted to test her abilities."

"Did you not trust her abilities in the lab, Doctor Brennan?" he frowned slightly, becoming protective of his friend.

"No, I didn't," she shook her head honestly. "What were you thinking when you recommended her?"

"I believe I was thinking just fine. I've never met anyone like her. She learns things very quickly, and she works very hard. She's quite brilliant."

"And your claim is not prejudiced based on the fact that you two are old friends?"

"Absolutely not," he shook her head.

"Can you prove this to me?" Brennan persisted.

Zack hesitated. He wasn't sure how or if Kylie would take to him revealing personal bits about her past without her consent. "I don't think I should."

"Why not?" she demanded. "The case is at risk here, Zack! I need you to give me a reason to trust her."

"If I understand Hodgins and Angela correctly during their last visits, it was your decision to put her in charge of the case," he said matter-of-factly. "You didn't give her a chance."

"Since your friend has no doctorate, or even a Masters, I have nothing to refer to, other than her undergraduate schooling, which is extremely insufficient," she reminded him.

"I believe the term Angela would use to describe her would be 'workaholic.' And graduating in four years with a 3.8 overall GPA, which comprised of her two majors and her minor, is hardly insufficient," he retorted.

"She has other skills that are, at this point, unexplainable," Temperance went on. It was unlike her to dismiss Zack the way she did, but when she needed her point to be made, her reasonability tended to go down slightly. "At this point, unless you give me something substantial, Zack, she is merely… _guessing_…her way through things. And you and I both know that that is _extremely _invalid."

"Understood, Doctor Brennan, but Kylie does not guess," Zack said firmly, in defense of his friend. "She is either certain, or she isn't. There is no in-between."

"So how does she do it, then?" Brennan asked, frustrated. "You are the only one who knows anything about her!"

"I don't want Kylie to be upset with me," he spoke hesitantly, recalling her first visit to McKinley. "I hate it when she gets upset."

"If you two are as close as you say you are, I am confident that she will forgive you."

Zack drew a sharp intake of breath; he hadn't found himself in this sticky a situation since Gormogon happened. He didn't want to ruin his professional and personal relationship with Doctor Brennan, but he also didn't want to be the cause of Kylie potentially getting fired from the Jeffersonian.

"I suppose I don't have a choice."

* * *

(Six years earlier…)

_"Kylie, what are we doing?" Zack asked, shifting uncomfortably in the front seat of Kylie's Toyota Corolla. _

_"What does it look like we're doing?" she smirked from behind the wheel as she gently pressed on the brakes to a smooth stop one foot behind the white line._

_"We have debate today," he reminded her. "Will we be back in time for that?"_

_"We do. And no, we're not going."_

_"But it's _debate. _We always go. And what about your cheerleading practice?"_

_"Got cancelled. Coach was sick," she smiled contentedly, enjoying Zack's discomfort._

_"You are strangely happy about this," he shifted slightly. He wasn't sure he'd ever seen his best friend this excited, nor had he ever felt as uncomfortable as he did, since they won their very first debate tournament as partners and she had engulfed him in a bone-crushing hug on stage in front of at least one hundred fifty people, nearly knocking both him _and _their trophy over._

_"We have won every debate competition we've had," she looked at him pleadingly, tilting her head toward him as her long ponytail fell neatly next to it. "We could use a little break. Come on, _live _a little."_

_"I'm breathing, therefore I _am _living," he furrowed his eyebrows. His parents always said it, his siblings said it, and now Kylie said it; but no matter who did, he could never comprehend that phrase. _

_"Have a little fun, silly," she reached over and gave him a light, playful shove. "Come on, we're going to my playground."_

_"I don't know what that means," he looked at her blankly. _

_"You'll like it," she assured him, before quoting his famous words, "I'm quite certain."_

_Was her remark a sexual innuendo of sorts? If so, he most certainly was not ready for any of that. After tiptoeing through what appeared to be four dark hallways, save for Kylie's flashlight, she finally took out a small silver key and opened the door ever so quietly while Zack held it open for her to enter first. As she flicked on the light switch, he jumped in shock, knocking his friend backwards against the wall due to her close proximity behind him._

_"Kylie! I'm so sorry," he bent down and held her hand and forearm to balance her as she picked herself up off the floor. _

_"Don't worry about it," she smoothed out her jean jacket and deep purple tank top. "So what do you think?"_

_"This is an autopsy room," he stated, admiring the dissection tables, tools, and machinery organized throughout the room._

_"Gee, Zack, I didn't know that," she sarcastically replied._

_"You didn't?"_

_ Kylie smiled to herself. That was something that would always stick with him, she predicted. He took things far too literally sometimes. It was both amusing and irritating, depending on her mood, but at that moment, it was amusing. "What did you expect?"_

_ "A park," he replied._

_ "A _park. _Why would I sneak us out of debate to take us to a _park_?" she looked at him knowingly. "Well, I'm a little biased, since I didn't have the privilege of playing at parks as a kid, but I guess you could say _this_ was my park instead."_

_ "An autopsy room?"_

_ "Police departments get boring," she shrugged. "When you're stuck in one room doing homework all the time, you can't help but wonder what the rest of the place looks like."_

_ "So you would come here," he said._

_ "Not at first. I actually used to hang out with the blood splatter analyst and watch him do his thing 'cause I thought it was cool, but then my dad found out and got real upset with me. But when I was looking for the snack room one time when I was about eight, I took a wrong turn and ended up here, where I met Paola, the forensic pathologist. She let me stay in here as long as I didn't touch anything without her permission, and she'd teach me about how she performs autopsies and dissections and all that. I even helped her with a couple of them when I was old enough."_

_"So you know how to conduct autopsies and perform dissections?" Zack was impressed. What Kylie lacked in IQ, she made up for in her unusual upbringing, resourcefulness, and quick learning abilities. _

_"Theoretically, sure," she nodded. "She also taught me about the bones sometimes, if the victim suffered from a blunt force trauma to the head or strangling or something like that. Did you know that you could determine if someone's broken a bone, or if they've gotten surgery, how old they were, or even how they lived their life, just from examining the bones?"_

_ "Yes, as a matter of fact, I did. It's quite fascinating."_

_ "I miss her," she sighed, delicately gliding her fingers across the cadaver table. "She was the mother I never had."_

_ "What happened to her?" he asked curiously, moving next to her. He hated seeing Kylie so sad; with everything she'd been through, any happiness she appeared to have was nearly a façade._

_ "Paola? Or my actual mother?"_

_ "Both." Kylie never discussed her mother with him, only her father. He'd never asked before, but since she brought it up, his curiosity got the better of him. _

_ "Paola left to take care of her family a couple of years ago shortly before my dad died. She and my dad were really close. This was her old room; she left me a copy of the key to remember her by. Per my father's request, nobody's used this since she left. They have another one a few doors down."_

_"And your biological mother?"_

_"My actual mother," her hazel eyes transfixed directly in front of her, "died of a stroke seconds after she gave birth to me. I guess you could say I killed her."_

_ "Your mother died from a loss of brain function, which occurred as a result of a disturbance in the blood supply to her brain," Zack corrected her, surprised that she would think such a thing. "She most likely had a genetic disposition to it, as well as potential symptoms that may have gone unnoticed."_

_ "Just because Einstein's your great, great, grandfather doesn't mean you can just tell me why my mother ended up dead!" she whirled around to face him. There was a reason she never discussed her mother with anyone; Zack's insensitivity toward the matter was exactly why. _

_ "First of all, my family is of Irish and English descent, not German," he corrected her, before continuing, "Second, I may not have known your mother, but I possess a great deal of knowledge about strokes. My grandfather had one, and so did my great-grandfather before him. I read up on them extensively after my grandfather died when I was six, so that I could help my father avoid the same fate in the future. Granted, preventive measures don't always keep strokes from happening, but they've appeared to work for him so far. He's much healthier now than my grandfather and great-grandfather before him were at his age."_

_ "You're not helping, Zack," Kylie's face retained its stone-coldness, although she continued listening._

_ "You never asked me to. I am merely giving you facts," Zack tried again, placing a hand on her shoulder the way his mother did whenever she tried to make him feel better when he'd come home from school with a new bruise on his body. "Her pregnancy merely aggravated any risk factors she might have already had. I would have to see her autopsy report to be sure, since you didn't tell me what kind of stroke it was, or if she had any previous conditions, but there is a good chance she was indeed predisposed, therefore the stroke was inevitable. You are not responsible for your mother's death. Whoever gave you that impression was severely mistaken."_

_ It was rare that what a person needed and wanted to hear coincided, but for Kylie, that was just the case. She knew deep down her mother's death was not her fault, but her brother's words from when they were 10 and 4 years old respectively were not something that was easily forgotten. No amount of pity or condolences took that away, until Zack had finished talking at that moment. Even if it hurt, he gave her facts, based on what she told him – the very facts that confirmed what she already knew. She just needed to hear them. _

_ "Do you still believe that your mother's death was your fault, or do I need to quote every single book or case study that I've researched to prove it to you?" he asked, unsure what to make of her lack of response to his words._

_She looked up at him, her lips forming a small, toothless smile as she wrapped her arms around his waist, gently placing a kiss on his cheek. _

_"I take it that you are satisfied with my evidence, then," he said, returning her embrace, holding her closely to him, the way he would with his younger sister whenever she'd come home from school crying. _

_Kylie merely nodded into his chest, closing her eyes for a second or two before looking up at him. "Can I show you my first cadaver now?" _

* * *

"As you can see, Doctor Brennan, apart from her far superior social skills and the fact that she spent a lot of her time after school at a police department, you and Kylie are not so different," Zack concluded his story.

"A trained professional allowed her to perform a dissection on a cadaver?" Doctor Brennan asked, disapproving of the lack of judgment.

"With supervision, and not before she had plenty of practice," Zack nodded. "But you also spent your lunches in high school performing dissections on rats well before you did so in an organized setting. Is that any different?"

"No, I suppose not," she agreed. So Angela was right; there _was _more to her intern that meets the eye. Kylie Wells grew up without much semblance of a real family, and her tendency to remain emotionally distant from those around her, along with her reluctance to share her past with others, was something that Brennan could relate to. "Thank you, Zack."

"Like I've said before, Kylie is brilliant in her own right," he called after her, as she got ready to leave. "Brilliance that extends far beyond the confines of a medico-legal lab."

"I know, Zack," she nodded, recalling her poise in the interrogation room, as well as her uncanny ability to connect her findings in the bones with the pattern the killer used in the murder, which she could now attribute to her upbringing in addition to her undergraduate education. "I know."

* * *

**This chapter took me forever to write, partially because I've been busy trying to get settled into my new place and new class schedule and all that, and also because it took awhile to get the flashback right. I thought another flashback would be a little less boring than a whole conversation between Zack and Doctor Brennan. Thank you all so much for following/reviewing/favoriting the story; it's been motivating me this whole time! Have a good weekend, and stay tuned!**


	14. Chapter 14

**Same disclaimers apply! This chapter takes place roughly at the same time as the last one did. Enjoy!**

* * *

"Know what you're getting yet?" Sweets asked, briefly looking up at his friend-slash-patient while flipping through the Royal Diner menu.

"Strictly professional, remember?" Kylie replied, clearly not happy with their situation and the rising sexual tension between them.

"Doesn't mean I can't still be friendly," he gave her a small smile.

"A veggie burger with jalapenos and fries," she replied curtly, slouching in her chair slightly. "Barbeque sauce on the side."

"You a vegetarian?" Lance was surprised. Except for the jalapenos and barbeque sauce, her order was eerily similar to Doctor Brennan's. Now all she had to do was order sweet tea to go with that.

"Hell no," she shook her head vehemently. It always irked her when people assumed she was a vegetarian just because she liked veggie burgers, though it wasn't unreasonable. "I just don't like red meat."

"Get out. Seriously?" _There went that plan_, he groaned. He'd planned to cook some steak and mashed potatoes for her – as a friend, he begrudgingly admitted – when they were at a more stable point in her therapy, but now he had to change that.

"Hey, I'm a fried chicken kinda girl," she held up her hands in surrender. "Almost as bad as red meat though, with all the oil and shit. But I love it. My Aunt Helena, as nutty as she is, makes the_ best _fried chicken. Pair that with her homemade biscuits and gravy, and I swear, if heaven existed, that would be it."

"You don't believe in Heaven?" Lance asked curiously, crossing his legs under the table. This could be an interesting development, he thought.

"No," she shrugged. "It's nothing but a state of mind, if you ask me."

"So when your parents died, you never prayed that they'd end up in Heaven?"

"What's the point of that?" she crossed her arms. "It's just a cowardly way to cope with loss."

"A bit ironic coming from someone who hasn't moved past either of her parents' deaths, don't you think?" he raised his eyebrows, playing devil's advocate. He wasn't much of a religious person himself – that was Booth's thing – but with all she'd been through, her response wasn't too surprising. Despite her emotional tendencies that she generally did a good job of compartmentalizing (he saw through them anyway), she was also quite rational. But she also had a fair amount of intuition, and it couldn't hurt that Zack was her best friend on top of all that.

"I'd rather live through the pain and face it head on than push it aside in favor of false hopes of them going to a 'better place,'" she raised her fingers in the air in air quotes. "They're gone, and that's that. Just gotta make 'em proud, you know? Honor them the best I can."

"Do you think they'd be proud of you now?" he asked, going along with her.

"I hope so," she shrugged. "Can't speak for my mom 'cause I never met her, my brother hardly remembers her, and my dad didn't like to talk about her because it hurt too much."

"Do you want to talk about her?"

"Do I have to?" she answered his question with another. Talking about her mom was infinitely worse than talking about her dad, mainly because she had felt responsible for her mother's death for the longest time, until Zack had finally talked some sense into her. His talk with her that day had prompted them to sneak into the archive room and dig up her mother's autopsy report after she had finished showing off her first dissected cadaver.

"You won't be able to avoid it forever," Sweets said, deciding that going at her pace would be better than pushing it in her situation. "But we don't have to right now if you don't want to. Let's start with your dad, then?

"That's why I'm here," she replied, swirling a fry in the barbeque sauce and taking a bite. "He's the reason I'd still visit the Ann Arbor PD even when my brother tried to keep me away by forcing me to join the debate team. He was so great at what he did; it makes me want to be as good as he was."

"So I take it you were close to him?" Sweets asked.

"I like to think so, yeah," Kylie smiled a little. "Even if we didn't really do a lot of the typical bonding fathers and daughters tend to do."

"And what would you say that is?"

"What my dad and I did, or what fathers and daughters tend to do?"

"The latter. Booth already told me the first part."

"You've gotta be kidding." How much did Booth tell him?! She'd probably thank him later for spilling the beans, but at that moment, she was _pissed_. When Lance said that Booth told him, he never said _what _he told him, and that worried her. He could've given Lance the wrong impression, and she could be wasting her time with the therapy that Lance so desperately wanted her to seek because Booth exaggerated the facts. "What exactly did he tell you?"

"That you grew up without a mother, first off, and that you spent one of the most crucial developmental stages of your life without any parental figures," Sweets repeated Booth's words verbatim. "Are you mad at him?"

"There's a reason a personal life is _personal_, so yeah, I kinda am," she huffed.

"What made you open up to him?" he asked curiously.

"I don't know," she shrugged, which was the truth. Why _did _she open up to him? Even she didn't know the answer to that. But his brusque, fast-talking manner was oddly comforting to her, and if she had to take a wild guess, he was probably a father. "I just felt like I could trust him for some reason."

"And why do you think that was?"

"I really don't know. Not very helpful, I know, but I don't know what else to tell you," she relaxed, slowly becoming more comfortable. "I should've been a complete bitch and told him to fuck off, the way I do with pretty much everyone, except for you – because I actually like you – and Zack because he's my best friend, but I felt like he genuinely cared about me, and he didn't know a thing about me."

"That's just the way he is," Sweets explained. "Now back to your dad. When he died, your brother became your legal guardian, right?"

"Yes," Kylie's mood quickly turned sour.

"Did you two not get along?"

"Sure we did, until that happened," she replied tightly.

"He decided to take on the role of 'surrogate father' in light of your father's death, and you didn't like that because you felt he was trying to take the place of your father," Lance unsurprisingly finished her thought. In his experiences, that usually tended to be the case.

"Ugh, _yes_!" she threw her hands in the air. "The moment he became my guardian, he stopped being my brother and started trying to be Dad. He was insufferably overprotective, and I hated it."

"As much as you resent him, you do realize that he had his own share of problems, correct?"

"Like what?" she demanded. "He was getting everything he wanted. He became a cop, just like Dad was, and he was set to become the next Chief of Police if he hadn't decided to train for the FBI instead."

"Th-the FBI?" Lance gulped. If her brother ever found out the two of them, he was almost certain that he would shoot him if he ever let anything happen to his sister.

"Well he's not an agent _yet_, even if he likes to think he is," she rolled her eyes.

"Good to know," Lance made a mental note to never piss off Kylie Wells' brother, and also to look him up on the FBI database later. "Becoming a parent changes a person, hopefully for the better," Lance replied. "It takes a tremendous amount of emotional and mental maturity, otherwise children end up neglected and/or not cared for."

He paused to recall his biological parents' beatings but stopped before Kylie could pick up on it. "Good parents want what they think is best for their children; their children become their lives. Your brother obviously was not mentally ready to be a parent, but whatever choices he made, he felt that he was doing what was best for you."

"So basically keeping me away from the one place that kept me connected to our father and running background checks on everyone I hung out with?" Kylie raised her eyebrows.

"That desire alone is enough to take over a person to the point where they will do _anything_ and _everything_ to make sure their child or children have what they think is best," Lance explained. "His methods were clearly excessive, but he cared enough about you to truly believe he was doing the right thing by you. Does that make sense?"

Kylie froze at as she thought back to the interrogations she'd done with Booth. All the evidence they had currently compiled still pointed to Jackson, the victim's best friend, mostly because he appeared to have the most motive, but Lance's last words were enough for her to investigate another potential suspect or two. Given Lance's track record with profiling, she decided her idea was well worth investigating.

"Miss Wells?" Sweets waved a hand in front of her face, which bore a trance-like expression. "You there?"

"Jackson Harding did not kill our victim," she replied, not breaking out of her trance-like state. "But I think I know who did."

* * *

**Wow! I can't believe I have 21 followers! Thank y'all, it means a lot to me! I'm so sorry this took so long to update. School, again, took precedence, but that doesn't mean I haven't been thinking about the story. I predict roughly 2-3, maybe 4 more chapters until the end. Sad, I know, but my offer for a prequel, which would expand on The Genius and the Cheerleader (the link is on my profile), still stands! Hope y'all liked it! Thanks so much for keeping up with me!**


	15. Chapter 15

**Same disclaimers apply! I was going to wait til the weekend to update, but after seeing how many new followers I was getting, I decided to speed up the process. Enjoy!**

* * *

"How sure are you about this?" Booth asked as Brennan's young intern accompanied him in his black SUV toward the FBI building, with Sweets in the backseat.

"Nine-point-six, give or take a tenth or two," she replied. "The unaccounted point-four is due to the lack of physical proof, but Hodgins is putting together a profile of the particulates from the mass spec, so we should hear from him soon with something more tangible to work with besides the bones and our profile."

"Nine-point-six, huh? Couldn't you have just been normal and picked a whole number?"

"Hey, I was raised by two cops, and my best friend is a genius who was stupid enough to get himself locked up in a loony bin. I've never been normal, Agent Booth."

"No, but you certainly are something. How'd you come up with this theory of yours, anyway?"

"Hypothesis," Kylie corrected. "A theory would imply that it's been tested and proven multiple times before, which it hasn't."

"Do I look like I care? What'd you two figure out?" Booth waved a hand in the air, taking a hand off the wheel.

"Doctor Sweets and I were discussing our killer's profile yesterday after I finished up at the lab, and while the evidence we have still points to Jackson Harding, he didn't do it. He doesn't have enough knowledge of human anatomy and/or physiology to administer that exact dosage of anesthetic that Cam worked out," she explained.

"You've heard of 'stage parents', right Booth?" Sweets jumped into the conversation to prevent Kylie from having to reveal their therapy sessions.

"Those nuts who always want their kids to be the best at everything and show 'em off all the damn time? Yeah," he nodded.

"His mom exhibits traits that suggest that she was or is a stage parent. Remember the last couple times we talked to Jackson and his mom?" the psychologist continued. "Every time he would try to add something, she'd always stop him or try to talk over him, and he'd concede to her. His sideways glances and body language all indicated that he had trouble thinking for himself in his mom's presence, as though he was hiding something."

"Or they both were," Kylie adjusted her hypothesis. How could she have missed it? The post-mortem fractures were staring her right in the face the entire time, and she had completely overlooked it. Someone with Jackson's strength definitely could have crushed part of the victim's remains, as well as his skull.

"Agent Booth, could you _please, please _trust me on this?" Kylie huffed as he blocked the entryway to the interrogation room.

"I'm not supposed to let you go in there alone."

"Look, we're not going to get the answers we're looking for if you come with me."

"You're a _squint_," Booth said impatiently.

"A _squint_ that grew up with two cops," Kylie modified his words. "I know all the tricks in the book. I even came up with a few of my own."

"Well even if you are capable, protocol states I can't let you in there by yourself without a federal agent," he pointed out.

"But Doctor Brennan's been in there by herself," she reminded him, "and I'm acting in her place for this case, therefore it's only logical that I'm granted the same privileges that she has."

"Just do what you gotta do," Booth headed to the other side of the room, not in the mood to argue with a mini-Brennan.

* * *

"You've gotta be fucking kiddin' me, man!" Jackson threw his arms in the air. "I told y'all everything I know!"

"Whoa, whoa, whoa!" Kylie held up her hands, entering the interrogation room. "I'm not here to question you. Just wanna chat, that's all."

"About what?" he narrowed his eyes suspiciously. "In an interrogation room?

"Football," she replied with a smirk, sitting herself on one of the chairs across from him and crossing her right leg over her left. "And it's protocol. Can't really do much about that."

"Yeah? You tellin' me y'all brought me here just to talk about football?"

"That's right," she nodded before taking a seat and tucking a piece of hair behind her ear. "And there's no _we_. It was _my _idea."

"You always this much of a smartass?" Jackson's nostrils flared.

"I've been told several times I have an attitude, yeah," she nodded. "But this is strictly football. I promise."

"So you, a _girl_, want to talk _football_?"

"Sexist much?" Kylie could hear Sweets getting defensive on the other side, to which she looked through the glass to signal him to calm down. Booth pushed him back slightly, shooting him a warning look before turning his attention back to Kylie.

"You'd be surprised at how much I know," she replied knowingly. "Your stats are nowhere near as good as the _third_ and _fourth_ string quarterbacks, and you are far too heavy to rush for a first down if you can't complete a play. I mean, at the rate you throw, I bet my 80-year-old grandma could throw better than you. With your size, you'd make a much better cornerback or safety. What's your secret?"

"What do you mean, what's my secret?" the suspect got defensive.

"How do you do it?" she rolled her eyes.

"Obviously Coach thinks I'm good enough."

"Bullshit," she shook her head. "Doesn't take a genius to see what a fucking _lie_ that is. Anyone can go online and see that you basically _suck_ compared to the rest of the team. So what's up? Did you bribe the coach or something?"

"Good, good," Booth said from the other side. "Something's definitely up. I don't know what the hell kind of method you're using, but it's working."

"He's nervous," Sweets added excitedly. "It's only a matter of time now."

"No, no, no! That's not what happened, alright?" Jackson sighed on the other side.

"Ha! So you're admitting there _was _something going on," the young girl smiled triumphantly.

"I feel like there was, yeah," he nodded. "Definitely didn't expect to get on the team, that's for sure."

"How do you like it? The college football life, I mean."

"It's cool," he shrugged. "I know I'm not as good as the other guys there, but I'm just happy to be there. Football was always Rocky's thing, even though he and I'd played together for years. This was what he _wanted,_ man. I was just along for the ride to support him. But I do get first dibs on classes, so that's pretty nice."

"What about the actual football?" she pressed on.

"I love football, don't get me wrong," Jackson leaned closer. "But it'd be just as cool with me not being on the team."

"You're a go-with-the-flow kinda guy, aren't you?" Kylie leaned back in her chair, crossing her arms.

"Well, yeah, I guess you could say that," he agreed. "Sure don't worry a whole lot."

"But those tryouts. Those were intense, right? That didn't rattle your cage?"

"Technically I didn't try out," admitted the Georgetown student-slash-football player.

"Bullshit," Kylie raised her eyebrows. "Everyone's gotta try out. Or be observed by the coach at the very least."

"My mom said Coach was willing to put me on the team without a tryout," he shrugged.

"Why? Compared to the rest of your teammates, you suck. You said so yourself." _Come on, Jackson, _she thought. _Give me something here. I know you're up to something._

"My mom," he swallowed. "I don't…I don't know what she meant when she said it, but…"

"Your mom?" Kylie waved her hands to prompt him as he clammed up. "Come on, man, you can tell me. There's _no one _else here. Just you and me."

"Wells! What the hell are you doing?!" Booth was protesting from behind the room. Had Brennan's mini version just lost her mind?

"Can't you see? She's manipulating him," Sweets gestured to the two. "We're not actually turning anything off."

"Right," Booth pinched the bridge of his nose.

"So? Your mom," Kylie persisted. "What did she say?"

"She said," Jackson tapped his fingers on the table nervously. "She said she took care of it."

"So you got on the team because of your mom," Kylie stated.

"Well, it wasn't because of her," he began defending his mother.

"Of course it was because of her. Your mom was having an affair with your football coach. Does your dad know?"

"What...But…She can't do that!" Booth brought both hands to his head. "Only I can do that!"

"Looks like she picked up a thing or two from you," Lance smiled proudly. "Now shut up before she gets annoyed with us."

"It's not an affair! My parents have been divorced for the past six months!" the college student slammed a hand on the table in the room.

"So you knew?" It was always an affair, she observed. It always played a part in murder investigations somehow, and it made her sad.

"No!" he insisted. "My mom brought him over for dinner one time, but I had no freakin' clue he was the Georgetown coach, I swear!"

"You make me look like a _really_ good liar, you know," Kylie unrelentingly scolded him. "And I'm wicked terrible."

"So you knew I was lying from the moment you brought me here to talk about 'football'?" he raised his eyebrows in shock.

"Wow, you _are _an idiot," Kylie laughed. "You just admitted to lying, you know that?" She smiled and shook her head. "You sure aren't acting like the victim's best friend. Rocky would be _so_ disappointed in you."

"Have _you_ ever lost someone close to you?" Jackson asked. "Do you know what it feels like? Having your other half just ripped away from you?"

"Do my parents count?" she retorted in the same tone. "Yeah, don't talk to me about _loss_. That's all I really know about these days."

"Kylie, don't make this personal," Lance warned her.

"How's she doing?" Booth whispered, turning off the microphone. "You helping her?"

"I'm not at liberty to discuss that," Sweets kept mum about the therapy, flipping the microphone switch back on. "Can we focus, please?"

Meanwhile, Jackson Harding was crumbling under the pressure Kylie was placing on him, just the way she wanted him to. "…Can't you cut me some slack? I just lost my _best friend_!"

"I'm not doing anything," Kylie shrugged indifferently. "Now quit your sob story and tell me something worth my time, will you?"

"I didn't mean to!" he sobbed. "She didn't mean to!"

"Not really making things easier, but go on," Kylie rolled her eyes. "Who's 'she'?"

"My…my mom," he breathed.

"Your _mom_?"

"Y-y-yeah," his voice was barely above a whisper.

"So let me get this straight: you helped your mom cover up the fact that she stole a fatal dose of anesthesia from your father's office and murdered your best friend after the Fordham game in an alley one block from the stadium two weeks ago. And under your mother's watch, you helped cover it up by smashing up his skull and some of his bones to make it difficult to discern his identity." Mike was right, she thought. Family sticks together, through the ups and downs, no matter how bad things might get. Blood really is thicker than water.

"She only wanted me to have the best opportunity possible," he sniffed through more sobs. "I didn't think she was gonna kill him! She did it for me! She murdered my best friend, but she did it for me!"

"Oh, is that how she rationalized her actions with you? _Really_?" Kylie laughed mirthlessly, marveling at the many contradictions he was making.

"Yeah," Jackson shrugged. "I'm fucking pissed at her, obviously. Rocky and I'd been friends since before we could walk, but like I said, she did it for me. I can't help but feel…_flattered_ that she could go to the extremes like that for me."

"Wow," Kylie shook her head. If anyone deserved to go to a loony bin, it was this guy. His mom clearly brainwashed him into believing that she did the right thing, and that he was doing the right thing in covering it up. As far as she was concerned, both mother and son were sick in the head and could use some mental health treatment.

"Was that a good wow, or a bad wow?" Jackson frowned.

"You're under arrest for obstruction of justice in a murder investigation and lying to a federal agent," Agent Booth stormed into the interrogation room, handcuffs in hand. "Does that answer your question? You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in court. You have the right to an attorney…"

"And my mother?" Jackson Harding asked weakly.

"Oh don't worry, we'll take care of her, too," Kylie assured him with a satisfied smile. "We're piling up evidence against her as we speak. She's not the only chick who knows her way around a body."

"Don't refer to my mom as a 'chick,' you heartless _bitch_," Jackson lunged at the young Jeffersonian intern, to which she responded with a firm right hook to his jaw, knocking him onto the ground.

"And _that_ is how I got suspended from school for a week when I was 14," she crouched down so that she was eye-level with the suspect.

Agent Booth should have apprehended Bones' intern for her actions, but he couldn't help but smile instead. If she weren't a squintern at the Jeffersonian, she'd make a damn good FBI field agent. _You raised a fine daughter, Chief Deputy Wells. If only you could see her today. You'd be damn proud of her. _

* * *

**So as you can tell, this story is sadly coming to an end. But don't worry, all lose ends will be tied up before the end, and everything will be resolved in as many chapters as needed. Thank y'all so much for following/reading/favoriting/etc.!**


	16. Chapter 16

**Same disclaimers apply! Just a heads up, this is probably my favorite chapter of the story. Enjoy!**

* * *

It had been two weeks since the football case, and the Jeffersonian forensics team (Kylie included) was getting ready to testify against the mother-son duo in court. Cam had found the exact needle that Mrs. Harding used to administer the lethal dosage of anesthesia after they'd gotten a warrant to search the Harding residence. She had to give it to Mrs. Harding; she was smart to use her brain to take him out, as opposed to physical force, but not smart enough to leave behind evidence – in a lingerie drawer, of all places. Angela's computer program successfully worked out the logistics of the necessity of someone with Mrs. Harding's exact height and weight to have punctured the victim at the angle shown in the pictures Kylie had taken, and Hodgins found material on the victim's clothing that matched that of Mrs. Harding's vintage Aston Martin. Why she would choose to ruin a classic car by dumping a corpse in the backseat was beyond him, but the evidence matched, and that was what mattered.

Kylie's last interrogation was the final piece of the puzzle that tied together everyone's findings; having reviewed the case file one more time, Doctor Brennan knew deep down that if it weren't for her young intern, it would've turned into one of many cold case files.

* * *

_(Five years earlier)_

_"Miss Wells, did you fight Shana Pinkston two weeks ago from Wednesday?" Mr. Pinkston, Shana's father and lawyer asked her as she took the stand._

_"_She _fought with _me,"_ eighteen-year-old Kylie Wells corrected him._

_"Is there a difference?" he persisted._

_"Yeah," Kylie replied. "If you put two boxers in a ring, does it count as a fight if one of them doesn't fight back?"_

_"_I _will be the one asking the questions, Miss Wells,"_ _Mr. Pinkston reprimanded the defendant. _

_"Any punch I threw at her was both self-defense and non-fatal. You can check her x-rays."_

_"But the two of you were engaged in a fight?"_

_"Technically, yes. Bu it was one-sided," Kylie stood her ground. "She might have made me angry many times by constantly taunting me, but I've never wanted to hurt her."_

_"Did you steal Miss Pinkston's boyfriend?"_

_"They broke up about a month ago, Sir," Kylie replied, "so it wouldn't be stealing if I did. He's always been attracted to me, but I never returned the favor."_

_"But you did communicate with him."_

_"I don't understand what that has to do with anything," she furrowed her eyebrows, crossing her arms. "People talk all the time. It doesn't mean anything's going on. If it did, I'm pretty sure half the girls at school would be pregnant by now."_

_A good amount of the people in the room, including the judge, laughed. _

_"Your cheek will not be tolerated, Miss Wells," Mr. Pinkston reprimanded her._

_"Excuse me, Mr. Pinkston, but I will be the judge of that," the presiding judge replied. "I saw nothing wrong with her response."_

_"But as you can see, Miss Wells had every motive and the proper amount of emotional instability to attempt to murder my daughter."_

_"Again, I will decide that," the judge said calmly. "After the witness testimonies."_

_Kylie put on her best poker face to hide the fear bubbling inside her as she began to process the fact that there was a good probability that she could spend a good chunk of her life in County. There had been no witnesses that she knew of when Shana and she had fought, and Mr. Pinkston was highly respected in the law community. She didn't stand a chance._

* * *

"What's up with her?" Hodgins asked Angela as they watched Kylie isolate herself from the group on the stone steps of the courthouse, where they all prepared to testify against Mrs. Harding and her son.

"Will you people give her a break?" Angela sighed, exasperated. "This is her first time in a courtroom. Shit gets crazy in there. I know the first time _I_ went in there I almost passed out."

"Well whatever it is, she better get her shit together. She _made _this case, I hate to admit."

"Is everything okay?" an emotionless voice asked from about three feet behind them.

The two squints froze. Had their appeal gone through? Had it really been enough to get their friend and former colleague out of the loony bin?

"Zack?"

"Zack!"

Hodgins' face lit up as he threw his arms around the young genius, while Angela wrapped her arms around both of them.

"I find myself unable to breathe," Zack groaned at his two friends' squeezes before looking around for his oldest best friend. "Where is Kylie?"

"Over there," Angela gestured to the young intern. "She's in some trance or something. She's not responding to anything. Or anyone. A crow almost crapped on her and she didn't freak out or anything."

"She is in a catatonic state," the tall, shaggy-haired forensic anthropologist observed. "May I talk to her?"

"Go ahead," Angela shrugged. "I tried getting her to talk, but it's like she didn't hear me, or something. Like she's frozen. But maybe you'll have more luck than I did."

"I don't believe in luck," Zack shook his head, before making his way to the spot where Kylie was hugging her knees to her chest and dressed to impress, wearing black skinny jeans, heels, and a black blazer with a teal top underneath that brought out her porcelain skin. The only thing missing, he noticed, was the normal brightness of her facial features.

"Hello, Kylie," he greeted her.

No answer.

"Doctor Brennan meant for my arrival to be a surprise for after the trial, but Doctor Sweets was able to get the paperwork done quicker than he anticipated."

Still no response. He noticed her hazel eyes transfixed on the ground in front of her; the last time he saw that expression on her face, she was recalling a terrible memory from her past.

"Kylie." He raised a gloved hand to her shoulder and shook it lightly, only for her body to move back and forth lifelessly with the shaking.

"Could you please say something?" Zack was getting worried. It was the first time he'd seen her in over two weeks, and for some reason he had yet to be informed of, she was in a catatonic state.

"You could insult my lack of social aptitude," he offered. "You always did that when we were younger, though your intent was never malicious. You were what Angela, Booth, or even Hodgins would call a smart-ass."

His friend's face had only grown whiter than it already was, and she still had not budged. _I don't understand_, he thought. _She was the reason the case was solved. She should be satisfied._

"Are you scared?" he decided to ask as he scooted closer to her. When she didn't react even with the slightest movement, he cautiously placed an arm around her, gripping her shoulder in a similar manner that she used to do with him. In the past, she had been the one to comfort him the majority of the time. Now, it was his turn.

"As you know, I would usually say that fear is not rational, but in this case, your fear is very much so," he said. "The last time you were in a court, even though it was technically a hearing, you faced the possibility of jail for a crime you didn't commit."

Angela and Hodgins exchanged surprised glances. _Jail?! _They silently exclaimed.

"It's impossible to know exactly what you are thinking right now," he went on. "And I don't know that your state of mind allows you to respond to me, but please listen. I took your advice, Hodgins was able to get his lawyer, and we built a case. Everyone helped, except you, because you were too busy running the case with Booth and also because they wanted to surprise you."

Zack had never been one for open sentiment, but his time in McKinley, combined with therapy from Doctor Sweets, had changed that, and he had since become more open to getting in touch with his emotions. "You were the first friend I ever had. I still think it was illogical of you to get suspended from school the first day we encountered each other, but...looking back, I realize now that you were being a friend, despite the fact that you barely knew me."

"Did Zack get here okay?" Lance huffed as he had half-powerwalked, half-ran to catch up with them after finally finding a parking spot. "And where's Kylie?"

"Shh," Angela whispered, gesturing to the two young friends sitting on the step. "Zack's having a moment."

"Oh," Lance looked on at his now-girlfriend and her best friend, pleasantly surprised at the amount of emotion that Zack appeared showing.

"You were also being a friend when you smacked me across the back of the head because I could not see the error in my logic the first time you visited me at McKinley," Zack continued. "With that said, it is only logical that, as your best friend, I am here for you as well."

With his free hand, he reached forward and gently wrapped his hand around one of hers. "We are more similar than you realize, Kylie. You shut people out when things are difficult. I used to do the same, but as you can see, that resulted in me getting sent to a mental institution. Doctor Sweets has taught me the value of letting people in sometimes, allowing them to help me. I think it would benefit you, as well."

Lance gave his former patient an encouraging smile while resisting the urge to intervene on his own behalf.

"Two years ago, I'm fairly certain I never would've said what I'm about to say, but it's acceptable to be afraid sometimes, given that you do not let it overpower you, which you are currently doing right now."

"Zack!" Lance gave him a disapproving look.

"It's true, Doctor Sweets," he replied. "Would you agree that her current catatonic state is due to her allowing fear from past experience consume her at this moment?"

"That's a fair assessment, but did you _have_ to say it out loud?" Sweets argued.

"Yes," the former McKinley patient replied bluntly without explanation, before turning to Kylie. "While there is no denying that I outmatch you physically, you are one of the strongest people I know."

His voice grew more confident as he continued, "Strength is not limited to physicality. You have displayed exceptional emotional strength in the face of adversity for as long as I have known you, and I see no logical reason for you to stop now. If your parents were alive, they would be very proud of you, just like I am."

Angela clapped excitedly, teary-eyed at her friend and former colleague's speech. Maybe all those times of attempted social and emotional bonding with him paid off after all.

"Wow. Since when did Zack get all Mr. Emotion?" Hodgins smiled.

"He's always been," Sweets told them. "He just needs the right person to bring it out of him. For him, that person happens to be Miss Wells and, to a certain extent, Doctor Brennan."

All four of them looked toward Kylie, holding their breaths in anticipation. They were due in the courtroom in less than five minutes, and all their hard work (excluding Zack) would go down the drain if their intern did not recoup within the next thirty seconds.

"Why are y'all looking at me like that?" Kylie suddenly snapped out of her stupor, dazed and slightly disoriented. She turned to Zack. "And since when did _you _become Captain Kirk and Spock at the same time?"

_There she is. _For the first time, Zack didn't have a response, and he actually knew what Kylie meant, not just because it was Star Trek. He'd always considered Kylie to be the best friend he'd ever had, but he never realized how much she meant to him until that moment, when he thought he'd lost her. And having experienced that, he made a mental note to show his friends that he cared more often, which he was sure everyone, especially Hodgins, would appreciate.

* * *

**Holy crap, 30 followers?! Y'all are amazing! I was going to wait til Friday or so to update, but I don't really feel like doing my homework, and I was in a creative mood all day (I even partially drew something that may or may not become a first tattoo), so I updated sooner. Hope you enjoyed it as much I did writing it! Thank you so much for keeping up!**


	17. Chapter 17

**Same disclaimers apply! Just a quick heads up, this chapter is rated M for moderately explicit sexual content toward the end. Enjoy!**

* * *

"Miss Wells, may I have a word, please?" Temperance Brennan looked up from her computer to catch a glimpse of her intern clicking her black suede heels toward the lab exit. Her testimony in court was a success, and Mrs. Harding had been sentenced for 25 years for premeditated first-degree murder, while Jackson had been charged with obstruction of justice and placed on probation.

"Sure," Kylie nodded, turning directions. "What's up?"

"I believe I've misjudged you," Brennan sighed, folding her hands on her desk. "You clearly have experience that I was unaware of when I first hired you. I pride myself in using facts and logic to make reasonable, sound conclusions, but I failed to use either in my initial assessment of you. And for that, I owe you an apology."

"Please," Kylie shook her head with a smile. "I'm not completely off the hook, either. I mean, I definitely could've given you less attitude. I guess that's where my youth comes in. I've always had a problem with that."

"You've been through a lot, Miss Wells. You had your reasons for not discussing your background that I should have clued into," the forensic anthropologist said. "Having lost both of your parents when you were barely into your teenage years can't have been easy for you."

"Wait a sec, who told you that?" Kylie demanded. If it was Booth again, she was going to have a word with him; if it was Lance who spilled the beans, there was no way in hell they were having sex again until he gave her a good reason for telling Doctor Brennan without her consent (although that was no longer necessary since he was no longer her psychologist); if it was…_no_. He wouldn't…would he?

"Zack…but I told him…_why_?"

"Only because I asked him to," Brennan assured her intern. "You and I share a similar trait in keeping our personal backgrounds to ourselves unless we absolutely trust the person, it becomes relevant to a case, or it becomes a life-or-death situation. Interpersonal communications aren't my strong point, and I wasn't comfortable confronting you directly, therefore I went to the person who was most familiar with you."

"I see," Kylie nodded.

"I lost my mother too," the taller woman went on. "I understand what it's like to have your demeanor often misconstrued because you appear to lack…_humanity_."

"Or you just do a good job of hiding it, so nobody sees how hurt you really are," Kylie offered.

"That would be an accurate deduction," Dr. Brennan agreed. "I'm also sorry for discrediting you on the grounds that you lack a doctorate, when there is obviously more to you than that."

"It's understandable. You're the best in your field, and to be the best, you believe that one must receive the highest degree of education possible, in addition to experiencing as many areas as possible, which is how you got to where you are now. Statistically, you'd be correct; for most of the general population in the largest part of a normal distribution curve, it would take far more field experience and advanced study to work in a high-stakes environment like this one. I happen to be one of the exceptions."

"That was very logical of you, Miss Wells," Doctor Brennan gave her an impressed smile. "It appears I've taught you well."

"I learned from the best," Kylie beamed. "Which is why I'm quitting."

"Quitting?" Brennan echoed her words. As much as she hated to admit it, once she got past her headstrong, direct attitude, Kylie Wells had come to be her favorite intern. Her methods were unconventional, yet still decently logical, and there was no denying that she was very well-rounded.

"I applied for the position because Zack told me you were looking for a new assistant, and since Zack'll be coming back, seems like you don't really need me," Kylie shrugged.

"But you have proven yourself in more ways than one, Miss Wells. You're very innovative, resourceful, and extremely hard-working, which isn't something I see every day in my interns. I'm afraid I can't let you quit without a logical explanation."

"Are you _kidding_ me, Doctor Brennan?" Kylie raised her eyebrows. "You treated me like _crap_. You had to resort to putting the case in _my _inexperienced hands to convince yourself that I was capable. One apology isn't going to make things better just like that. I know you don't believe in luck, but you're _very _lucky that it was me you put through that, because you could've screwed someone over big time. If you'd done that with any of your other interns, this case would've been _fucked _and you know it. I loved working with everyone. I really did, but your approval matters the most to me. So with all due respect, I'd rather work somewhere where I feel respected, and let Zack get the credit he deserves. He's your prodigy. You can't deny that, and I don't want to take that away from you. It's been an honor, Doctor Brennan."

Kylie turned on her heels once more, swallowing back tears. She genuinely enjoyed working at the Jeffersonian; for the first time, she felt like she had a family. An unconventional one, yes, but a family nonetheless. She'd spent most of her life fighting for what she wanted; she wasn't sure how much longer she could do it. If every day was going to be like those she spent leading their last case, she was pretty sure her paycheck would be going towards extra sessions with Melina, her new shrink, instead of toward her postgrad degrees.

"Kylie?" Camille Saroyan looked at the young girl in surprise. "What's the matter?"

"Nothing," Kylie shook her head.

"You might be a walking lie detector, but you should know by now you're a terrible liar," Cam smiled, gesturing her to sit on the bench next to her. "Now talk to me."

"I just told Doctor Brennan I quit," she replied blankly.

Kylie watched in confusion as Cam laughed quietly to herself.

"Why are you laughing?"

"Miss Wells," she breathed through her chuckles. "If you quit, you're gonna have to go through me. Doctor Brennan might be a lot of things, but the boss isn't one of them. Besides, I'm not letting you. You're too good of an asset to us. But if it's what you want…"

"Doctor Brennan hates me," Kylie cut her off. "You saw how she talked to me, what she had to do to convince _herself_ that I was fit for the job. I don't know if I could put up with that every day."

"Look," Cam sighed. "Doctor Brennan has been unstable since the Gormogon incident, and when you came along, she was still hurting, even if she looked and sounded fine. It didn't really help that you and Zack are as close as you are, but for the rest of us, it kinda brightened the place up."

"But now that Zack's back, there isn't really a place for me here anymore," Kylie said. "I only found out about the job opening because of him. Plus, I have a couple doctorates that I'd like to start as soon as possible, now that I know what I want to do."

"You can do both," the head of the Jeffersonian forensics division replied easily. "I know Zack did, but just between us, with the way you work, you'd probably finish faster than he did, if that convinces you. What were you thinking of studying?"

"Biology and forensics. During my time here, I found that I was more suited for those than forensic anthropology," Kylie answered honestly. "But don't tell Doctor Brennan that."

"It's too late for that," the forensic anthropologist interrupted the two of them, having heard the bulk of their conversation. "Miss Wells, your resentment toward me is perfectly rational. I have given you more than enough reason to make you to feel that way. From your attitude, it appears that you are capable of holding a grudge, and I don't blame you. But your presence here hasn't had a negative impact on our work environment, and…I'd like you to stay."

"And you're sure this isn't because you heard me telling Cam I wanted to start my two doctorates?"

"That's Doctor Saroyan, Miss Wells," Brennan corrected her intern.

"No, that's okay," Cam waved her hand. "One syllable is better than five. Especially if she's going to be my new assistant."

Kylie couldn't believe her ears. _Her new assistant_? "Doctor Sar…_Cam_," she began, struggling to speak. "You don't…are you sure?"

"Positive," the caramel-skinned woman beamed. "With the way things get around here, I could use an assistant. I think you'll find our methods to be quite similar. Minus the psychology-profiling stuff, though. I've never really studied any of that. But with you around, Sweets won't have to be around all the time."

"What's wrong with Lance?" Kylie got defensive of her boyfriend before realizing her mistake. Neither of them had told anyone that they were official yet. _Fuck,_ she panicked internally. _It was an accident, Lance, I promise!_

"Ha!" Angela marched in triumphantly with Hodgins and Zack closely following her. "Hodgins owes me thirty bucks!"

"You were _betting _on me? What are you, _twelve_?"

"I'm sorry, Kylie, but the evidence was all there," Zack replied. "Angela saw it."

"What are you talking about?" No. No way. There was no way any of them could've seen that, she insisted to herself. Nobody puts a camera in the _janitor's closet_…do they?

"Sweetie, there's something you should see," Angela brought her over to her computer room, where she pulled up a video from exactly four days ago, at about 10:30 in the evening.

* * *

_"__It's about fucking _time_," Kylie moaned as she breathed heavily as she felt Lance's cool hands slowly make their way up her plaid flannel shirt and onto her breasts._

_ "I have a confession to make," Lance stopped suddenly._

_"What is it?" she frowned. _

_"During our sessions, all I could think about was you on me," he breathed, as Kylie's lips made their way to his neck. "Or me on you, depending on who's thinking what," he smiled at the sucking sensation._

_ "Oh you have _no_ idea," Kylie shook her head, pulling his head toward her for a slow, deep make-out before they started unbuttoning each other's pants. "Whenever we talked about all my personal issues during our sessions, I was determining the most comfortable positions to do it in your office, factoring in the firmness of the chair and couch, the length and width of your desk, the body angles required by the potential positions, our heights and weights so that we wouldn't break anything, and noise level so that we wouldn't get caught."_

_ "You really _are _Zack's best friend," he chuckled. "So what are they?"_

_ "Where's the fun in that?" she giggled as Lance made his way down to her lower half. "We'll just have to try them all."_

_ "How many are there?" he laughed, half-excited and half-impressed that she'd come up with all that. _

_ "Again, not telling," Kylie kept mum. This was going to be _fun_._

_ "I hate you," he grumbled playfully._

_ "No, you don't," she pushed him lightly as she wrapped one leg around his. _

_"You know, Lance," she looked up at him, a one-sided grin plastered on her face. "It's a little hot in here, this being a janitor's closet and all."_

_"You thinking what I'm thinking?" his dimples appeared on his cheeks as he waited for her response._

_"I wish I didn't have any clothes on right now," she tiptoed to whisper in his ear, biting on his ear afterwards._

_"I don't really want mine on, either," he smiled at her words. "So is it gonna be me, Miss Minogue?" _

_"All day, every day, Mr. Bass," she licked his half-exposed chest while he dropped his pants to the floor, and quickly slipped on a condom. _

_ They proceeded to exchange a mixture of yelps, moans, groans, and screams as they experimented with various positions, given their confined space and dim lighting._

_ "You know," the FBI psychologist gasped and grabbed her surprisingly muscular thighs as she proceeded to full-on straddle him, "if I get fired because of our experiment, you're responsible for finding me another job."_

_ "Looks like we'll have to be sneaky, then," she giggled again, lightly kissing her way up and down his upper half._

_ "I can do sneaky," he smirked, smoothing his hands downward along her body and preparing to go in for the big finish._

_ "Is that the best you can do?" Kylie challenged him, pulling harder on his hair and massaging his legs with hers._

_ "Are you kidding? That was a warm-up. Patience, young one…"_

* * *

By the time the video had finished, Kylie was standing in front of the screen, frozen and unable to speak. She'd felt violated, sure; she'd never dreamed in a million years of having a sex tape, but truth be told, she was more embarrassed than anything else. To think about what was going through their heads while watching them…especially _Zack's _head, of all people, watching his best friend and his former psychologist have sex.

"Who else has seen this?" she croaked.

"Sweetie, it's not a big deal, I promise," Angela gave her a hug. "I can even give it to you if it'll make you feel better. But for the future, if you and Sweets ever need a little getaway, there's this _really _cozy bed down in Egyptology. No cameras, I promise. Trust me, I don't know why they'd put one in there, either."

"Wait," Kylie's face lit up mischievously. "Who? You and Hodgins…?"

"Mhmm," the artist smiled, recalling her first time with Hodgins in the closet.

"Oh, my God," the youngest girl's face was now a deep red from trying not to laugh. "How was it?"

"Amazing," she beamed. "He does this amazing thing that makes you go _nuts_…I can't even begin to describe it, but it's on page 187 of Doctor Brennan's second book if you're interested. First, he..."

"Can you both stop?" Zack cut them off. "Watching Kylie and Sweets have intercourse was disturbing enough."

"Sorry, Sweetie," Angela went over to ruffle the genius's mop of brown hair.

"You're still my best friend, Zack," Kylie assured him, giving him a quick squeeze around his waist, followed by a kiss on the cheek.

"Yes, I know," he returned her hug, patting her on the back lightly with a gloved hand. "But it doesn't remove what I saw, or make it any less disturbing."

"If it makes you feel any better, it's my fault," the half-Asian girl added. "If it weren't for the bet, I wouldn't have found this."

"Wouldn't have found what?" Cam popped her head in.

"Nothing," the three of them replied, putting on their best poker faces for their boss.

"_Firefly _and _Doctor Who _marathon at my place, anyone?" Hodgins popped in after her with a grin. "Call Sweets up, too. Drinks on me!"

* * *

**So I've officially decided that this will be the second-to last chapter before the epilogue (which I've already planned). There's still one more thing that needs tying up, and this chapter was already getting long enough as it was. Hope you enjoyed it! And 42 followers?! Y'all are the best! Thank you!**


	18. Chapter 18

**Same disclaimers as always! Last chapter of the actual story, y'all. Enjoy!**

* * *

"Alright, Sis, you're out of your mind, I've never met any of your friends," Mike Wells laughed, taking a swig of his Corona. Even after being her legal guardian for the past 10 years, his younger sister was still full of surprises. "What changed?"

"I have," she shrugged, "I suppose. According to Melina…"

"Melina's a girl's name. Thought your shrink was a guy," he raised his eyebrows.

"I'll get to that later, but let me finish," Kylie cut him off. "According to Melina, if I am to move past my issues, I have to face them head on and work through them. I have to be open to change. So this is me being open to it."

"I'd be lying if I said I wasn't a little freaked out by your sudden change in attitude, but go on," her older brother prompted her.

"I hated the way you treated me like a little kid when we were younger. You always wanted to know what I was doing every second of every fucking day. Therefore," she exhaled, "I felt like you didn't trust me."

"That's fair," Mike nodded in agreement. "Looking back, I went a little overboard with the big brother crap, and for that I'm sorry. But the way I was with you was the only way I knew how to deal with losing Dad. Remember how I woke you up that night, to tell you that Dad was dead?"

"How could I forget? You woke me up at one-thirty in the fucking morning," she grumbled stiffly.

"I…I watched him die," he swallowed, recalling how their father got shot on duty. "He'd taken me for a ride-along that day in Detroit. And you know how shitty it can get over there. He was following up information from an informant about this huge meth lab they'd been after for the past two months. He told me to wait in the car, keep the door locked, and that he'd be back in thirty minutes at most."

"Why didn't you tell me this before?" Kylie frowned, taking a sip of her beer.

"It was two days before your thirteenth birthday," he shook his head. "I couldn't bring myself to ruin that. As you can probably predict, thirty minutes passed and he didn't come back, so I followed him. Right when I stepped through that door, I could tell something wasn't right. And I didn't have a gun yet, either, so I'm sure you can imagine I was scared shitless."

"Can't you just jump to the part with Dad and be done with it?" Kylie wasn't up for revisiting her past yet again after having done so with Melina for the past hour, and also before formally introducing Lance to her brother.

"No," he shook his head firmly. "I know you don't want to hear it, but you have to. Alright?"

"Whatever," she rolled her eyes.

"So when I went in, I smelled blood. It was fresh, couldn't have been more than five minutes old. I followed the smell down to the basement. I should've taken the hint when that door was unlocked that something was up, but I didn't want to believe it. But I sure as hell wasn't ready for what came next. The guy who'd told my dad about the meth had betrayed him, and was holding a gun to his head. Another guy was dead on the floor next to them. The informant was only in it for the money, and I guess Dad forgot the past week's payment or something like that, because he was fucking _pissed_."

"So he basically told them where the meth lab was, only for him to turn on Dad later? Didn't Dad have backup?"

"He said he wouldn't need it," Mike shook his head bitterly. "Real stubborn of him. I guess we know where you get that from. Anyway, after what felt like ages of standing there, I couldn't take it anymore. I had to do something. I felt something at my feet, and what do you know, there was a loaded semi-automatic 1935 Beretta. So I put it behind my back and said, 'Yo, I think you dropped something,' and dropped one of the flasks on the shelf. And it would've worked if Dad hadn't said, 'Mike! No!' and given us away as father and son. He ended up shooting Dad, but my distraction was enough for him to get shot in the gut instead of his head."

"You can still die from getting shot in the gut," Kylie crossed her arms. "If the bullet was shot close enough, it could penetrate the rib cage and potentially get to the heart."

"Yeah, well I didn't know that back then, did I?" he threw up an arm angrily. "He knew his shot didn't kill him, so he was going to go for another one, but I stood in front of the guy before he could do anything, telling him he'd have to go through me first."

"You _what_?!" she screeched.

"I know, I know," he waved it off, "but I knew the guy. He and Dad were close. To this day, I still don't know why he did what he did, but at the time, I figured if he really cared about my dad at all, he wouldn't shoot me in front of him. I'd completely forgotten that I still had that 1935 Beretta, until Dad suddenly shot him dead from the ground before he could do anything. His last words to me were, 'Son, what'd I tell you about carryin' a loaded gun without the safety?' to which I said, 'If the safety's off, and the gun's loaded, that means I intend to use it.' And just like that, he was dead."

Mike paused as he allowed a tear to run down his cheeks.

"Mike…" Kylie rushed over to give her brother a hug.

"I watched him die, Kylie," he wrapped his arms around her. "According to the coroner, had we gotten him to the hospital even just a few minutes earlier, he might've had a chance!"

"He saved your life," she gently pointed out, taking the rare opportunity to comfort her older brother. "Just like you saved his. You gave him a little extra time, Mike. If that guy had shot him in the head like he'd intended, you wouldn't have gotten that last moment with him. You wouldn't have gotten to say good-bye."

"But I never got to. He died before I could."

"Dad was never really openly sentimental," she reminded him. "Goes with the job. What he did with you? That was his way of saying good-bye."

"You're right," he sniffed. "You know I didn't technically have to be your legal guardian, right?"

"I'm not sure about the finer details of the will, but yeah, I think they told us that. Why?"

"Looking back, sometimes I think it would've been easier if we'd just moved to Dallas with Uncle Thompson and Auntie Jillian, but taking your whole life and transferring it to a place you only spend two holidays a year at isn't all that easy, either. I thought of you, mainly. It would've been a big change for either of us no matter what we chose, but with you about to start 8th grade, I knew it would've been hell for you to adjust to a new environment, so I chose to take care of you myself."

Kylie already knew that last part from her sessions with Lance, and further affirmed from her newer sessions with Melina, but to hear it from her brother personally was a different thing entirely. She knew she had been selfish when she didn't treat him as well as she should have, considering how much he was giving up for her, but the past was the past. "Thank you, Mike."

"So who did you say was coming over again?"

"I didn't," she smirked.

"You've never brought home anyone before, if you were even dating anyone," he said suspiciously.

"I was, but that's beside the point. Don't think just because you've got your nice shiny badge and gun that I'm afraid of you. If this were the old me, this wouldn't be happening, but this is the new me, and I'm trying this thing called letting people in. This guy is really important to me, and I want you to meet him," she said with finality.

"Cool," he nodded. "Let me just get my gun…"

"Oh no, you don't!" Kylie stopped him.

"Relax, I was kidding," he laughed.

Before anything else could happen, the doorbell rang and Kylie flushed.

"Shit, I haven't gotten ready yet," her hands flew to her face as she realized her hair was completely undone and her face was bare.

"Honestly, he doesn't care," Mike said, chugging the last of his Corona. "Don't keep him waiting."

Kylie looked from her brother to the door before quickly twisting her hair into a bun and opening the door.

"Mr. Bass," she smiled.

"Miss Minogue," he nodded, straightening his tie slightly lightly kissing her on the lips and offering her his hand. "Shall we?"

"We shall," she smiled.

As the two lovers appeared in the dining room, Mike nearly fell out of his chair. "Doctor Sweets?"

"Hold up. Y'all know each other?" Due to her excellent observation skills, she usually caught onto these things, but this time, she was genuinely thrown for a loop.

"He conducted this psychological evaluation I had to pass as part of the FBI final exam," Mike explained. "Given all the shit I've been through, I was pretty fucking sure I failed that. Thanks, man." He held out his hand for Lance to shake.

"You don't give yourself enough credit," the young psychologist shook his head with a smile.

"So you and my sister, huh?"

"If that's cool with you, yeah," he replied politely. "We'll be seeing a lot of each other now that you're officially an agent. This won't be awkward, will it?"

"You're the first boyfriend she's introduced to me, so I'm a little new to this. Just don't hurt her and we're cool," the lone blond in the room held up his hands in surrender. "Kylie's a smart girl. Maybe not Zack-smart, but she's got a good head on her shoulders. She doesn't give herself to someone that easily. You must be a pretty great guy. So you two have my blessing."

"Thank you, Mike," Lance smiled, wrapping an arm around Kylie's waist. "I'll take good care of her."

"You better," he gave his sister's new boyfriend a warning look.

"Alright, quit the alpha male crap," Kylie stepped between them. "I don't know about y'all, but I'm starving."

"Yeah, me too," Mike said quickly, not wanting to ruin their dinner.

"Same," Lance nodded, following the two siblings into the kitchen.

Lance was right, Kylie Wells concluded. It had indeed been an uphill emotional battle, from confronting her past and accepting the fact that Zack had been placed in a mental institution, to proving herself worthy to Doctor Brennan, but in the end it would all pay off, and it all came down to how she viewed herself. From an early age, she had a strong sense of independence, which in turn caused her to distance herself emotionally from others at a certain point and also to challenge authority from time to time. The reason she and Zack were able to form such a strong bond was that neither of them felt the conscious need to rely on others, yet when it came down to it, they were there for each other, whether they asked for it or not. It was a long way to go before she would fully come to terms with her past, but with others supporting her, perhaps the road to recovery wouldn't be as bad as she thought.

* * *

**So that's it! For the actual story, that is. It's not completely done yet. The epilogue is still to come. And a couple of you have expressed interest in a prequel, so I'm considering doing that as a continuation to the one-shot I already posted (the link is on my profile). I can't thank you all enough for the support I've been getting on this! Have a wonderful week, y'all!**


	19. Epilogue: 5 years later

**Same disclaimers as always!**

* * *

As Zack Addy boarded the bus to spend his Saturday evening watching Kylie and Sweets' three-year-old daughter instead of watching reruns of _Firefly_, he did not know what to expect, nor was he sure he wanted to do it. He never had much fun watching his nieces or nephews, mainly due to his difficulty connecting with them whenever they wanted to play. Where they were playing with their cars, dolls and trains, he was already playing with a calculator he'd found on his older brother's desk. Toddlers were the biggest hassle to care for, he decided, because of their never-ending energy and persistence, so why he'd said yes to Kylie was beyond him.

"Please?" she looked up at him with sad puppy eyes.

"And you're certain you couldn't find someone more qualified?" Zack sighed.

"She loves you," Kylie assured him. "She always asks when you're going to visit."

"Does she?"

"She really does," Lance nodded. "I think you're her favorite. She might even like you more than she likes Angela."

"Like mother, like daughter, I guess," Kylie joked.

"Very well. I will supervise her," Zack decided. If their daughter liked him, it shouldn't be too much of a hassle.

* * *

"I see you have an abacus," Zack said to the little girl, who had finally settled down on the floor after running around the living room in circles and was currently sliding the beads back and forth, giggling with each sliding motion.

"What's an abacus?" Rebecca Anne Sweets looked up from her toy.

"It was used for counting back before a formal writing system was invented," Zack explained, oblivious to the idea that she would have absolutely no idea what he was talking about.

"I don't know what that means," she shook her head. "You're silly!"

"No, I'm not," he frowned slightly before asking, "Do you know how to count?"

"One, three, five, four, six, eight, ten!" she said proudly with a big smile.

"Not quite," Zack couldn't help but smile. "Would you like me to teach you?"

"But Mommy says that's correct," she insisted.

"It's not," he shook his head, wondering why Kylie would lie about something like that. "But I could teach you the proper way if you want."

"You can teach me to count to ten?!"

"I can teach you to count up to as much as you'd like," he promised her.

"What about infinity?"

"Infinity can't be counted," Zack never thought a three-year-old girl would elicit a laugh out of him, but it did. "We can start with fifty for now."

"Fifty?!" her chocolate brown eyes widened. "But that's a lot!"

"I know," he lightly patted her on the head. "Would you like to try?"

"Not really," she shuddered at the thought of the big number.

"Okay. How about twenty?" Becca appeared to pick things up quickly. If he could get her to successfully count to ten consistently, he figured twenty would come sooner or later.

"Twenty," she repeated. "That sounds good," she nodded in approval.

"Then we should get to work," he grabbed the abacus with a gloved hand before remembering they hadn't eaten yet. "After we eat," he added as an afterthought.

"Okay," she reached up to grab onto one of his gloved hands. "Time to eat!"

"Is mac n cheese your favorite?" she asked as she stuffed a spoonful into her mouth after Zack had placed her in her booster seat at the table.

"Yes. Is it yours, as well?"

"Yes!" Becca perked up before her face fell slightly. "But Mommy says I can only have it twice a week because it's not healthy."

"She's right," Zack agreed. "A balanced diet is best."

"What's a diet, Uncle Zack?"

"A diet refers to the kind of food you eat," he explained to her. "I think your mom and dad would be able to explain it better."

"Can we count now?" she asked.

"Not until you are well nourished," he replied.

"Nourished?"

"After you've eaten your mac n cheese," Zack mentally slapped himself for not remembering he was talking to a three-year-old.

"Okay!" she perked up and continued eating before getting distracted Zack's gloved hands. "Why are you wearing gloves?"

Zack froze. Becca was a very curious three-year-old, he mused.

"To protect my hands," he gave her the simplest answer he could, but she didn't stop there.

"From what?" she asked curiously.

"Do you still want to learn how to count?" he changed the subject as quickly as he could, knowing that both Kylie and Lance would disapprove of him telling his story.

"Okay! All done," she showed him her empty bowl.

"Very good," he placed her empty bowl in the sink, taking his gloves off to wash it.

"One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten! I did it, Uncle Zack!" Becca clapped her hands together excitedly about half an hour later before noticing the skin grafts on Zack's hands. "What happened to your hands?"

_I suppose I should add observant to my observations, _Zack thought. "I burned them." _In an explosion that was supposed to be for one of my best friends_.

"How?"

Was she going to keep persisting like this? He had gotten better with emotions since his time at McKinley, and while they were still not his strongest point, he couldn't help but feel like he would make her cry if he told her, and he certainly didn't want to deal with a crying toddler, Kylie and Sweets' daughter or not.

"I don't think we should talk about it," he replied.

"Why not?"

"It's a grown-up thing," he echoed what his parents told him whenever used to ask question he shouldn't have been asking.

"You're sad," the toddler looked at him worriedly and brought the abacus with her to sit on his lap. "Why are you sad?"

"Because I was remembering something sad," he answered her honestly.

"Are you sad because of what happened to your hands?"

"That would be correct," he nodded, impressed with her ability to make the connection and relieved that he hopefully wouldn't have to tell her the whole story.

"You shouldn't be sad, Uncle Zack," she grabbed one of his hands with both of hers. "They're all better now."

"Yes, they are." There was a lot more to it than that, of course, but that was something he could agree with. "Are you ready to count to twenty?"

"Yes! I'm ready to count to _fifty_!" she said.

"You can't count to fifty before you've counted to twenty," he smiled, securing her on his lap as she held out the abacus in front of her.

"Okay!" she swished her head around and proceeded to glide the beads one by one, row by row.

* * *

"…and adding two gives you how many?"

"One, two, three, four, _five_!" Kylie and Lance exchanged smiles as they heard Zack and Becca interacting in the living room.

"Mommy! Daddy!" Becca jumped out of Zack's lap and greeted them at the door. "Uncle Zack taught me to count to twenty! And addition, too!"

"Did he, now?" Lance chuckled, picking her up. "Thanks for looking after her. I know you would've rather been watching _Firefly_, so it means a lot."

"It wasn't a problem. She is quite amusing. She's very curious."

"Tell me about it," he rolled his eyes with a smile. "I'm gonna get her ready for bed, give you two some time to catch up. It's time to say good night, okay, Becca?"

"Already?" the toddler's bottom lip began to quiver.

"We're all going to bed soon, Becca," Kylie stepped in. "Uncle Zack has to get to bed too, right?"

" Not for another…" he began before she gave him a look that told him to play along. "Yes, I will be going to bed soon, as well."

"When will Uncle Zack come back, Mommy?"

"We'll see him again soon," Kylie assured her daughter before Lance took her to her bedroom.

"You didn't have to give me a ride," Zack said as Kylie pulled out of their driveway. "Taking the bus would have been sufficient."

"Hodgins only lives ten minutes away," she chuckled. "It's no big. Besides, you're my best friend, remember?"

"Yes, of course," he nodded before deciding to bring up the previous conversation he'd had with her daughter. "Becca asked about the Gormogon incident."

"What did you tell her?" Kylie asked curiously. They hadn't mentioned that to her, so she wondered how it came up.

"I didn't have to tell her anything, actually," he admitted. "She only asked about my hands, and she made the connection that it was upsetting to talk about.

"Really?" Kylie raised her eyebrows, impressed.

"Yes, she told me I shouldn't be sad because my hands were better. Though I'm fairly certain she will ask me again next time. Would it upset you if I told her?"

"What exactly did you say when she asked about them before that?"

"I told her it was a grown-up thing."

"Let's keep it at that for now," Kylie decided. "Lance and I have already taught her to not ask anymore when we say that, so let's keep it that way. Otherwise she'll just keep asking until she gets an answer and it'll drive you nuts. We learned that the hard way."

"Her cognitive skills are quite impressive," Zack commented. "She is a fast learner."

"It's a little scary sometimes," Kylie admitted. "She can remember even the littlest things. But you had fun?"

"Yes, actually I did," he shrugged. "She's quite entertaining to talk to."

"See? Told you it wouldn't be so bad," she lightly shoved him as they arrived at Hodgins' mansion. "See you at the Jeffersonian on Monday?"

"Of course," he said, getting out of the car. "Unless you become ill between now and then, that is. In which case I'd advise you to stay away from the lab so that you don't infect everyone."

"Hey Zack?"

"Yes?"

"I know Lance already thanked you earlier, but really, thanks for watching Becca," she smiled. "I know you've never been the most comfortable with kids."

"It's what friends do," he shrugged, and Kylie swore she saw him smile back a little. "I would do it again if you want me to. Good night, Kylie."

"Night, Zack."

* * *

**Sorry for taking so long to update, but this story is officially finished! I hope y'all enjoyed it as much as I have writing it. Thank you so much for following/favoriting/reviewing all the way through! If you'd like a one-shot spin-off of this or a continuation of the one-shot I've already posted, let me know and I'll see what I can do, time permitting, of course.**


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